>3 


fe, 


i 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


BY 


FRANK 

? 


CHICAGO : 

JANSEN,  McCLURG  &  COMPANY. 
1884. 


F2.S2)? 


COPYRIGHT, 

BY  JANSEN,  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1883. 




I     KKIGHT   &.  LEONARD  . 


35- 

icrott  Li 


CONTENTS. 


I.  GETTING  TO  A  NUNNERY  5 

II.  THE  SMITH  FAMILY  AND  ROBINSON  17 

III.  THE  BLACK  PRINCE  24 

IV.  STIFF-NECKED  HEATHEN     -  39 
V.  PEDRO'S  PENCE  -      47 

VI.  SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL  58 

VII.  BOHEMIA  72 

VIII.  WEST  END  ARCHITECTURE  -          84 

IX.  DOWN  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS  -  -      94 

X.  THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN   -  105 

XL  AFTERNOON  SERVICE       -  -    120 

XII.  PLACE  AUX  DAMES       -  134 

XIII.  THE  STREET  OF  THE  ORANGE  TREES     -    144 

XIV.  THE  LAST  OF  THE  MEGATHERIUMS      -        157 
XV.  ON  CORCOVADO  -    162 

XVI.  SEEING  THE  CITY  174 

XVII.  ENTOMOLOGY   -  190 

XVIII.  THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER     -  203 

XIX.  HOME,  SWEET  HOME  -  215 

XX.  BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS          -  230 


CONTENTS. 


XXI.  HAIL  TO  THE  CHIEF  240 

XXII.  OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK  -                  -    256 

XXIII.  ON  THE  HEIGHTS      -  269 

XXIV.  VANITY  FAIR                  -  -    285 
XXV.  CHESTER  SPECULATES       -  299 

XXVI.  LET'S  TALK  OF  GRAVES  -    317 

XXVII.  ROUGHING  IT    -  328 

XXVIII.  THERESOPOLIS       -  -     339 

XXIX.  PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE  348 

XXX.  MOUNTAINEERING  -     363 

XXXI.  THE  VALLEY  AND  SHADOW  -                  373 

XXXII.  BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE  -                 -    382 

XXXIII.  THE  BOY  NURSE      -  394 

XXXIV.  LOVE  LIES  BLEEDING  -  404 
XXXV.  ORANGE  BUDS           ....        410 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


i. 

GETTING  TO  A  NUNNERY. 

One  seldom  finds  in  Italy  a  spot  of  ground  more  agreeable  than 
another  that  is  not  covered  with  a  convent. — ADDISON. 


T 


No,  it  is  a  convent,"  answered  the  old  sea 
captain,  in  response  to  the  questions  of  his  little 
group  of  passengers,  as  they  were  slowly  steaming 
into  the  harbor  of  Eio  de  Janeiro  on  a  very  fair  morn- 
ing in  June. 

They  were  looking  at  something  white  which 
crowned  the  extreme  point  of  the  mountain  behind 
the  city. 

"  Ah-ha!"  muttered  the  young  man  of  the  party, 
withdrawing  from  the  circle,  and  beginning  to  disfig- 
ure a  page  of  his  diary  with  a  slashing  sketch  of  the 
view  in  question. 

The  young  lady  of  the  party  put  her  finger  to  her 
lip,  enjoining  silence,  and  softly  stepped  behind  him. 
This  was  what  she  read  underneath  the  picture: 

"  South  side  of  this  nun's-nest,  perpendicular  rock. 
A  thousand  feet  high,  or  more.  Points  straight  to 
Heaven,  like  a  sinner's  prayer.  No  show  to  get  up 
there.  North  slope  more  favorable.  Steep,  but  not 


6  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

too  steep  for  the  legs  of  true  chivalry.  Covered  with 
green.  Look  out  for  snakes.  Convent  is  of  white 
marble  apparently.  Think  I  can  make  out  a  window. 
A  damsel  appears.  She  reaches  forth  her  hands  as  if 
in  distress.  She  is  a  prisoner.  Her  hair  is  dishev- 
elled. Her  eyes  are  red  with  weeping.  Patience, 
fair  lady,  yet  another  day.  I  come,  I  come." 

"I  wouldn't  make  any  rash  promises,  Henry," 
said  the  practical  young  lady  behind  him.  "I 
wouldn't  specify  the  date.  You  know  you  haven't 
got  through  the  custom  house  yet." 

"Oh,  Stacy,  Stacy  !  How  can  you  be  so  cold  and 
soulless  as  to  talk  of  custom  houses  and  convents  in 
the  same  breath  ?  And  now  you  have  interrupted  this 
fine  flow  of  feeling,  and  all  the  inspiration  is  gone. 
Oh,  I'll  pay  you  for  this  yet.  I'll — I'll  introduce  the 
price  of  coffee  into  our  next  moonlight  talk." 

"  Do.  It  would  be  a  welcome  change.  But  now 
give  me  your  arm  and  let's  walk  around  our  old 
promenade  once  more. 

"  I  wish  to  talk  to  you,"  she  continued.  "  I  wish 
to  tell  you  that  you  are  making  yourself  supremely 
ridiculous  with  this  nonsense.  You  have  been  read- 
ing 'Don  Juan' — no,  don't  deny  it  —  and  your  head 
is  full  of  stuff  about  convents,  and  nuns,  and  foreign 
ladies.  /  have  been  reading  my  guide-book  and  my 
history  of  Brazil  and  a  missionary  pamphlet,  and  I 
know  all  about  these  things.  Charming  young  ladies 
don't  go  to  convents  now-a-days  ;  they  get  married. 
Or,  if  they  do  go  to  convents  it's  because  they're 
dying  for  some  young  man  they  can't  get;  and  do 
you  think  one  of  those  broken-hearted  creatures 


GETTING   TO  A   NUNNERY. 


would  smile  upon  an  overgrown  foreigner  like  you, 
that  weighs  a  hundred  and  eighty  pounds  ?  No,  in- 
deed, Mr.  Robinson." 

Stacy  paused,  and  Robinson  groaned. 

"  Go  on,"  said  he.  "  Dash  the  rest  of  my  visions 
to  the  ground." 

"  The  women  in  a  convent  are  old  and  thin.  They 
live  on  bread  and  water,  and  get  up  at  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  snuffle  when  they  talk." 

"I  believe  I  catch  your  idea.  They  say,  k  Go 
away,  you  bad  man! ' ' 

"  And  now  about  those  young  lady  Brazilians.  In 
the  course  of  our  voyage  down  here  I  have  heard  you 
pleasantly  allude  several  times  to  the  possibility  of 
captivating  the  heiress  of  a  coffee-plantation,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  Of  course  you  can  do  as  you 
please.  I  don't  care.  But  I  guess  you  would  re- 
pent it  soon  enough,  and  find  out  that  a  foreign  wife 
was  not  all  that  your  fancy  has  painted  her. " 

"What  a  delightful  little  tyrant  you  are,  Stacy," 
said  Robinson,  turning  to  look  her  in  the  face. 
"And  how  prettily  you  can  scold  when  you  take  a 
notion!" 

"I  do  not  scold;  I  advise.  I  am  not  a  tyrant; 
merely  a  friend  of  your  sister's." 

"  Oh,  don't  misunderstand  me.  I  am  not  com- 
plaining. I  rather  like  that  kind  of  bondage.  Op- 
press me  some  more,  will  you  ?  " 

She  leaned  a  pound  or  two  more  of  her  weight 
upon  his  arm,  and  they  drew  near  a  ladder,  at  whose 
foot  a  small  boat  was  discharging  its  passengers. 

"Here  arevthe  custom-house  officers,"  cried  the 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

girl.  "  What  a  handsome  fellow  their  chief  is! 
And  so  polite  !  I  wish  he  was  the  one  .who  had  to 
examine  my  trunks.  I  know  he  wouldn't  be  :tfude  to 
them.  What  an  air,  and  how  neat  those  narrow 
black  neck-ties  are!  Mr.  Robinson,  I  do  wish  that 
you  would  cultivate  a  foreign  air." 

"  O  Stacy,  Stacy !  "  he  groaned;  "have  we  brought 
you  all  this  distance  to  fall  in  love  with  a  custom- 
house clerk? " 

"Not  yet,  of  course  not.  But  then  the  possibility 
does  not  seem  very  dreadful  to  think  of,"  she  added, 
naively.  "I  wonder  which  he  is,  a  count  or  a 
baron  ? " 

"  Be  not  deceived,  Stacy.  At  the  highest  estima- 
tion these  fellows  are  not  more  than  remote  cousins 
and  nephews  of  the  nobility.  The  reason  they  flock 
to  us  in  so  great  numbers  is  because  they  are  sure  of 
getting  a  good  breakfast  here." 

"Well,  you  must  admit  that  these  gentlemen  are 
nice,  any  way.  Just  look  at  our  fellow-passenger 
from  Bahia.  He  is  reading  Les  Miser ables  in  the 
original,  so  he  must  be  cultivated.  I  wish  my  French 
was  better.  I  would  say  good-morning  to  him.  You 
have  noticed  him,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"Noticed  him ?  Yes  —  I  have  noticed  this  gentle- 
manly person  at  dinner  make  every  other  course  out 
of  tooth-picks — palitos,  he  calls  them.  If  you  will 
be  so  kind  as  to  make  the  necessary  observations 
you  will  probably  notice  a  tooth-pick  at  rest  over  his 
left  ear  at  the  present  moment." 

"That  is  a  national  peculiarity.  All  nations  have 
their  peculiarities.  The  especial  weakness  of  our 


GETTING   TO  A  NUNNERY.  9 

young  men  is  a  habit  of  wearing  all  kinds  of  hats. 
Besides,  our  young  men  are  so  dreadfully  jealous  on 
the  pl'ghtest  provocation." 

Then  she  gave  her  companion  no  time  to  reply, 
but  hurried  him  away  to  where  her  father  and 
brother  were  standing. 

"Papa,"  said  she,  ulet  me  have  your  glass, 
please.  And  if  ever  you  see  Mr.  Robinson  taking 
a  walk  to  that  mountain  with  a  guitar  under  his  arm, 
bring  him  back  immediately,  or  he  will  make  him- 
self ridiculous." 

The  ship's  doctor,  who  throughout  the  voyage  had 
been  observed  to  take  an  undue  interest  in  this 
young  lady's  health,  now  came  forward  with  the 
intent  of  making  himself  useful. 

"Is  it  the  Corcovado  that  you  are  speaking  of? 
The  one  with  the  white  wall  around  the  top  ? " 

"A  white  wall  ?  "  repeated  Robinson,  disdainfully. 
"No,  a  convent." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  surgeon. 
"  But  where  did  you  get  that  information  3  " 

"From  the  captain,"  answered  Robinson.  "He 
ought  to  know." 

The  surgeon  lowered  his  voice. 

"  I  thought  as  much.  It's  another  of  the  skipper's 
romances.  He  has  a  playful  fancy,  and  he  is  so  tied 
down  to  fact  and  figures  out  at  sea  that  he  loses  no 
opportunity  to  let  his  imagination  go  ashore  and 
sport  about.  He  is  not  to  be  relied  on  at  a  distance 
of  half  a  mile  from  salt  water;  and  that  is  a  good 
mile  and  a  half  from  here." 

"And  it  is  not  a  convent?"  Robinson  was  dis- 
appointed. 


10  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


1 1 


No.     It  is  a  parapet  built  around  the  mountain- 
top,  to  keep  the  people  from  falling  off." 

"And  those  marble  walls?" 

41  They  are  whitewashed.  It  looks  just  as  well, 
though,  at  this  distance." 

"And  the  fair  damsel — " 

"I  guess  that's  me,"  said  Stacy,  demurely. 

"  But  you  must  go  up  there,"  continued  the  sur- 
geon. "Everybody  goes  up  there.  You  see  the 
city  from  the  bay  here  and  think  it  is  perfectly 
lovely.  And  so  it  is  —  from  a  distance  —  and  it  will 
be  wise  for  you  to  go  at  once  to  Corcovado,  and,  so 
to  speak,  clinch  the  favorable  impression  before  you 
see  much  of  the  dirt  and  discord  of  the  streets. 
Everybody  goes  to  Corcovado,  and  for  their  con- 
venience the  paternal  government  of  the  empire  has 
constructed  a  fine  highway  to  the  summit,  and  built 
a  wall  of  protection  around  the  top.  All  of  the  sub- 
urbs of  Rio  are  one  grand  park,  and  Corcovado  is  its 
belvedere." 

"What  did  you  say  Corcovado  means?     Bel  — 
what?"  inquired  the  boy  of  the  party.    He  was  get- 
ting his  first  rudiments  of  his  first  foreign  language. 

"Oh,  no;  Corcovado  means  The  Humpback, 
Chester." 

"But  it's  not  a  Humpback  ;  it's  a  Fullback.  See, 
sis  !  Look  at  it!"  cried  the  boy.  clapping  his  hands 
in  the  ecstasy  of  discovery. 

"Be  still,  Chester  ;  don't  be  a  barbarian.  I  saw 
it  long  ago,  but  I  was  not  brave  enough  to  say  so. 
I'm  glad  that  you  have  come  to  my  support." 

"  O  Stacy,  Stacy!  "  groaned  Robinson.     "What  a 


GETTING   TO  A   NUNNERY.  11 

trivial  mind  is  yours !  Others  have  seen  The  Sleep- 
ing Giant,  The  Church  Organ,  The  Ship  tinder  Sail, 
The  Two  Brothers,  and  The  Padre's  Hat,  in  these 
magnificent  piles  of  mountains  around  us;  but  it  was 
reserved  for  your  intellect,  feminine  that  it  is,  to 
trace  the  shape  of  a  lady's  dress  there  —  and  of  the 
latest  fashion,  too.  I  verily  believe  that  if  you  were 
cast  away  upon  some  lone  island  of  the  sea  you  would 
find  a  parasol  in  the  tree-fern,  false  hair  in  the  tree- 
moss,  diamonds  in  the  fire-flies,  and  striped  stock- 
ings in  the  jaguar's  skin." 

"Miss  Smith  is  right,"  said  the  Doctor,  coming  to 
her  assistance.  "It  requires  no  powerful  imagina- 
tion to  see  this  freak  of  nature.  Others  have  noticed 
it  before  ;  and  from  the  hills  beyond,  from  the  Chi- 
nese View,  as  they  call  it,  the  illusion  is  still  more 
perfect." 

44  It  is  there,  as  plain  as  day,"  persisted  Stacy. 

4  4  Or  a  shop- window, ' '  continued  Robinson.  * 4  Sure 
enough,  I  see  it  now.  Straight  up  and  down  in 
front,  and  sloping  elegantly  away  to  the  rear.  This 
proves  that  this  mountain  can't  be  very  hard  to 
climb,  for  at  my  last  ball  I  walked  right  up  the  back 
of  a  lady's  dress  that  was  a  good  deal  steeper  than 
this,  and  without  the  slightest  effort  on  my  part.  Oh, 
this  must  be  a  very  easy  mountain  to  climb." 

"I  think,"  pursued  Stacy,  musingly,  u  that  I  will 
write  home  to  a  friend  of  mine  who  knows  a  lady  who 
edits  a  fashion  magazine,  and  she  can  get  her  to  start 
the  Corcovado  skirt.  It  would  be  all  the  rage,  I 
know." 

44  Do,    my  child,"   said  Mr.    Smith,   patting   her 


12  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

head,  uand  a  nation  of  husbands  and  fathers  will 
shower  blessings  upon  you.  Anything  to  relieve 
this  terrible  dearth  of  new  styles  in  millinery." 

"I  think,"  continued  this  artistic  young  lady, 
"  that  to  be  truly  natural  it  ought  to  be  a  green  robe, 
like  this,  and  with  flecks  of  white,  as  we  see  here.  I 
suppose  that  is  green  grass  with  daisies,  isn't  it, 
Doctor?" 

"No,  Miss  Smith.  The  verdure  of  that  mountain 
is  of  the  tallest  palm  and  most  luxuriant  jungle,  and 
it  is  dappled  with  trees  of  white  blossom." 

"  Are  there  any  monkeys  there  ?"  asked  the  boy, 
eagerly. 

"Monkeys,  scarce.     Parrots,  plenty." 

"Thank  you.  ~No  more  parrots  for  me.  The 
steward  has  a  parrot,"  and  in  proof  of  his  statement 
he  exhibited  a  triangular  gash  in  his  right  index 
finger.  "The  parrot  is  not  an  amiable  bird.  I  say, 
Doctor,  did  you  ever  hear  the  story  about  tlie  par- 
rot and  the  monkey?" 

"  Ches-ter/"  said  his  sister,  severely. 

"I  don't  care  ;  it  had  a  moral  to  it,  but  I  won't 
tell  it  now  if  you  ask  me  to,"  sulked  the  boy. 

Robinson  was  looking  gloomily  across  the  water. 
His  eyes  saw  the  glories  of  rock  and  forest  and  villa 
before  him,  but  his  soul  refused  to  consider  them. 
There  was  an  expression  on  his  face  that  was  by  no 
means  a  reflection  of  the  morning  sunlight  on  the 
mountains  ;  it  was  rather  the  vacant  and  unapprecia- 
tive  stare  of  one  who  has  missed  his  breakfast  in  his 
eagerness  to  see  all  of  the  vaunted  beauties  of  the 
harbor  of  Rio  de  Janeiro. 


GETTING   TO  A  NUNNERY.  13 

"  He  can't  forget  the  convent ;  that's  what  makes 
him  look  so  glum,"  suggested  the  irrepressible  boy, 
in  a  whisper. 

"  As  for  convents,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  there  are 
convents  right  in  the  city,  with  street  cars  at  their 
doors;  but  if  you  go  to  serenade  there  you  will  be 
taken  for  an  Italian  mendicant,  grinding  for  charity." 

"  And  the  nuns?"  asked  Kobinson. 

u  Well,  it  must  be  confessed  that  they  are  rather 
along  in  years.  It  has  been  some  time  now  since 
they  were  forbidden  to  receive  recruits,  by  some  kind 
of  a  decree  issued  by  somebody  — 

"  It  must  have  been  a  nuncio,"  interposed  Robin- 
son, putting  the  truth  in  jeopardy  for  the  sake  of 
a  pun. 

There  was  a  momentary  lull  in  the  conversation, 
and  a  deeper  solemnity  fell  upon  the  party  as  they 
endeavored  to  understand  the  joke.  As  no  one  suc- 
ceeded, the  Doctor  resumed: 

"The  consequence  is  that  the  present  inmates  are 
past  the  age  of  romance,  and  the  convents  themselves 
are  becoming  slowly  depopulated  as  these  good  souls 
die  off." 

"Alas,  alas  !"  murmured  Robinson. 

"But  there  was  a  time  when  the  convent  was  a 
scene  of  romance,  incarceration,  and  tears,  with  an 
unbounded  supply  of  gratitude  for  the  knight  who 
should  come  to  deliver  the  fair  lady  from  prison." 

"And  that  w as— " 

"  When  jealous  husbands  were  going  to  spend  the 
summer  in  Europe,  they  would  take  their  young 
and  pretty  wives  to  the  convent,  and,  in  polite  Ian- 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


guage,  secure  apartments  for  them  until  their  re- 
turn." 

"  Which  means  that  while  these  far-seeing  gentle- 
men were  larking  around  Paris  their  cherished  con- 
sorts were  languishing  in  the  dungeon,"  explained 
Robinson.  "And  was  there  no  chivalric  spirit  to 
rescue  them?  Oh,  why  didn't  I  take  an  earlier 
steamer?  " 

"  Still,  that  system  was  not  altogether  without  its 
advantages,"  said,  the  practical  Mr.  Smith,  slowly 
and  cautiously,  as  if  aware  that  he  was  on  dangerous 
ground. 

4  '  Papa  !  If  you  dare  to  talk  that  way  !  '  '  threat- 
ened his  daughter,  "I'll  write  to  mamma." 

The  valiant  colonel  retreated. 

"  Oh,  of  course,  I  didn't  mean  that.  Your  mother 
is  a  remarkable  woman,  my  dear.  I  wish  she  was 
here  now,  to  take  care  of  you." 

"Thank  you.  papa,  for  your  kind  solicitude,  but 
Pauline  will  take  care  of  me,  won't  you,  my  pre- 
cious? I  don't  care  much  if  papa  does  forget  me, 
and  Mr.  Robinson  laughs  at  me,  and  Chester  tor- 
ments me,  as  long  as  I  have  you  to  love  me." 

"Stacy,  we  all  love  you,  I  am  sure,"  answered 
her  little  sister.  "And  I  think  Rob  does,  too,"  she 
added,  confidentially. 

Stacy  frowned,  blushed,  and  then  lifted  her  shoul- 
ders in  the  true  Portuguese  style  of  disapproval. 
Robinson  observed  this  shrug,  more^  eloquent  than 
words. 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  Paul,"  he  said. 

Pauline  looked  mystified  and  grieved  ;  she  feared 


GETTING   TO' A  NUNNERY.  15 

that  she  had  not  been  discreet  in  this  little  speech  of 
hers,  though  in  what  her  error  consisted  she  was  too 
young  and  unpractised  to  know. 

She  was  a  shy  and  silent  child  of  seven,  with  a 
habit  of  stealing  out  of  the  way,  so  that  she  will 
probably  be  overlooked  throughout  a  large  part  of 
this  history.  ISTow  she  turns  to  the  vessel's  side,  and 
leaning  upon  the  railing,  with  her  cheeks  buried  in 
her  hands,  she  attentively  considers  the  black  rowers 
in  the  boat  below.  They,  looking  up,  see  a  very 
pretty  and  refined  child's  face,  blonde,  surrounded 
by  a  flurry  of  hair  to  match. 

They  lift  their  hats  in  reverence  and  admiration. 
Accustomed  as  they  are  to  the  dusky  brunette  chil- 
dren of  their  country,  they  take  this  radiant  stranger 
for  a  superior  being,  perhaps  of  a  celestial  order. 
Pauline  is  surprised  at  these  tokens  of  homage,  but 
she  responds  with  graceful  bends  of  the  head,  and 
would  like  to  smile  if  she  were  sure  it  was  the  proper 
thing  to  do. 

Let  us  not  be  astonished  at  this  instance  of  mis- 
placed adoration.  In  appearance  Pauline  was  infi- 
nitely the  superior  of  those  insipid  and  homely  wax 
figures  which  fill  the  niches  of  the  Rio  churches. 
Besides,  her  clothes  were  in  good  taste  and  fitted 
her,  which  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  the  apparel  of 
the  canonized  figures  that  wear  long  hair  and  gar- 
ments that  are  a  quarter  of  a  century  out  of  date. 

"See  what  I've  found!"  cried  Chester,  who  had 
been  turning  the  leaves  of  a  book  of  travels  in  Bra- 
zil. "Rob,  it  makes  me  ashamed  of  you.  Here 
you've  only  been  up  from  five  o'clock  till  nine,  gaz- 


16  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

ing  at  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  you're  already 
disgruntled." 

"Not  disgruntled,  whatever  that  means;  only 
satiated.  But  what  have  you  found  ?  " 

Chester  read  as  follows  : 

"More  than  one  have  had  to  confess  that  their 
first  twenty-four  hours  before  Rio  have  been  spent 
in  a  perpendicular  position  with  the  eyes  wide 
open." 

"  Now  I  wouldn't  like  to  believe  that  if  a  preacher 
hadn't  written  it,"  added  the  boy. 

"I  believe  he  also  compliments  the  odoriferous 
breezes  of  this  bay,  doesn't  he  ?" 

Robinson's  nose  worked  in  disgust,  as  the  sicken- 
ing smells  from  the  fish-market  and  sewer-mouths 
floated  across  the  water. 

Chester  continued  to  read : 

"When  the  land-breeze  began  to  blow,  the  rich 
odor  of  the  orange  and  other  perfumed  flowers  was 
borne  seaward  along  with  it,  and,  by  rne  at  least, 
enjoyed  the  more  from  having  been  so  long  shut  out 
from  the  companionship  of  flowers.  Ceylon  has 
been  celebrated  by  voyagers  for  its  spicy  odors  ;  but 
I  have  twice  made  its  shores,  with  a  land-breeze 
blowing,  without  experiencing  anything  half  so 
sweet  as  those  which  greeted  my  arrival  at  Rio." 

"Doctor,"  asked  the  simple-hearted  Pauline, 
"why  don't  travellers  tell  the  truth?" 


II. 

THE  SMITH  FAMILY  AND  ROBINSON. 

Who  was  her  father? 

Who  was  her  mother? — HOOD. 

SINCE  there  are  many  readers  whose  refined 
tastes  will  rise  up  in  just  indignation  at  the  idea 
of  making  the  acquaintance  of  such  ordinary  people 
as  the  Smiths  and  Robinsons  of  this  world  must  be, 
it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  leading  characters  of  this 
history  should  have  been  endowed  with  the  name  of 
Smith,  and  that  they  should  be  supported  by  a  young 
man  encumbered  with  the  name  of  Robinson.  Per- 
haps, however,  the  evil  has  been  modified  by  pre- 
senting them  singly  and  by  degrees,  instead  of  copy- 
ing their  passport  descriptions  upon  the  opening 
page,  thus  administering  too  sudden  a  shock  to  that 
large  and  growing  class  of  American  people  who 
make  it  their  glory  that  it  was  not  their  fathers,  but 
their  grandfathers,  and,  in  some  rare  and  illustrious 
instances,  their  great-grandfathers,  who  built  up  a 
fortune  and  position  upon  the  narrow  basis  of  a  retail 
trade  or  a  daily  labor. 

It  is  now  time,  however,  that,  while  making  what 
defence  of  them  he  can,  the  writer  should  frankly 
confess  that  he  knows  nothing  of  the  antecedents  of 
these  good  folks,  and  so  cannot  afford  to  stand  spon- 
sor to  them  to  any  great  extent.  They  seemed  to 
be  sensible  people,  as  the  Smiths  did  not  spell  their 


17 


18  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

name  with  a  y  and  a  final  <?,  while  Robinson  wrote 
his  signature  in  bold  and  free  characters  which  indi- 
cated that  he  was  by  no  means  ashamed  of  it.  Evi- 
dently they  were  rich,  as,  although  they  made  no 
display,  they  never  appeared  to  want  for  anything ; 
and,  as  money  seemed  to  be  no  novelty  to  them,  they 
were  probably  rich  before  the  war.  They  were  cer- 
tainly well-bred,  and  it  is  not  altogether  impossible 
that  they  came  from  an  old  stock,  as  there  have  been 
Smiths  that  have  filled  a  respectable  position  in 
history  all  the  way  back  to  Adam  —  meaning,  of 
course,  Adam  Smith. 

Taken  as  a  group,  they  were  handsome,  though  it 
must  be  confessed  that  the  boy  Chester  was  an  ex- 
ception to  the  general  good  looks  ;  but  then  the  live 
and  enterprising  boy  of  his  age  is  seldom  a  beauty. 
Chester  was  freckled,  round-faced  as  the  full  moon, 
and  persisted  in  having  his  hair  sand-papered  down 
to  the  scalp  by  the  barber;  it  was  less  trouble  to 
comb  it.  He  was  careless  about  his  boots,  and  con- 
tinued to  wear  yesterday's  collar,  day  after  day, 
until  Stacy  made  him  take  it  off.  His  hands  were 
scarred  with  numerous  bites,  pinches,  and  cuts,  re- 
sulting from  a  careless  handling  of  his  pocket-knife 
and  the  ship's  parrot.  They  were  restless  hands, 
and  when  they  were  not  in  his  pockets  they  were  in 
mischief.  In  short,  he  was 

"  —  a  school-boy;  what  beneath  the  sun 
So  like  a  monkey  ?  " 

On  the  other  hand,  the  childish  beauty  of  little 
Pauline  was  more  than  enough  to  atone  for  her 
brother's  roughness.  And  as  for  Stacy,  hers  was  the 


THE  SMITH  FAMILY  AND  ROBINSON.         19 

maturer  charm  of  twenty,  which  we  cannot  describe 
any  more  than  we  can  put  a  flower  or  a  May  morn- 
ing into  print,  while  to  her  attractions  of  person  and 
manner  she  added  an  inflection  of  speech  which 
some  people  found  very  pretty.  By  this  I  do  not 
refer  to  her  way  of  saying  "Ches-fer  /"  when  that  boy 
was  engaged  in  doing  wrong.  With  him  her  em- 
phasis was  imperative,  for  she  was  exercising  a 
motherly  authority;  but  with  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
it  took  the  form  of  a  plea,  especially  if  she  were  ask- 
ing a  favor,  and  so  irresistible  could  she  make  it  that 
if  she  had  gone  up  to  one  of  the  weather-beaten  quar- 
termasters on  deck,  and  said,  "Now,  my  dear  sailor, 
won't  you  please  jump  overboard  and  get  me  that 
jelly-fish  ? "  the  overpowered  tar  would  have  jumped, 
just  because  he  could  not  have  helped  himself. 

Except  with  Mr.  Robinson,  who  was  understood 
to  be  her  lover,  and,  in  a  tacit  way,  her  affianced,  she 
was  most  amiable  and  trusting.  With  him  there  was 
a  trifle  of  defiance  in  her  attitude  and  a  spice  of  rep- 
artee in  her  conversation,  which,  however,  was 
forced  and  not  natural ;  she  would  rather  have  been 
strictly  at  peace  with  the  whole  world,  Robinson  not 
excepted,  if  it  had  been  possible  and  strictly  proper. 
A  transient  acquaintance  with  this  young  man  did 
not  reveal  anything  very  wonderful  or  admirable  in 
him,  but  as  Stacy  had  known  him  for  many  years, 
and  still  tolerated  him  and  his  nonsense,  it  is  not  un- 
likely that  there  may  have  been  some  depth  to  his 
character.  Or  perhaps  she  was  influenced  by  her 
friendship  for  his  sister  Louise,  who,  at  the  very  last 
moment,  was  prevented  from  accompanying  this 


20  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

party  —  much  to  the  desolation  of  Stacy,  who  wanted 
a  companion,  to  the  grief  of  Chester,  who  wanted 
some  one  to  be  gallant  to,  and  to  the  profit  of  the 
foreign  mail  service,  which  carried  their  letters  back 
and  forth. 

But  Robinson,  at  heart,  was  not  as  bad  as  he 
seemed.  He  was  fond  of  sporting  certain  little  pec- 
cadillos of  character  in  which  he  neither  believed  nor 
participated.  These  were,  for  example,  a  fondness 
for  American  mixed  drinks  ;  a  horror  for  English- 
men, and  rankling  thoughts  of  the  Revolutionary 
War  ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  some  crazy  plans  for  the 
invasion  of  convents  and  the  liberation  of  the  beau- 
tiful creatures  which,  in  his  fancy,  were  imprisoned 
there.  He  was  well  built  and  good  looking.  If  he 
belonged  to  any  particular  type  in  appearance,  it  was 
that  of  the  well-paid  commercial  traveller  of  the 
United  States.  While  he  had  not  yet  reached  the 
ineffable  elegance  of  an  eye-glass,  his  dress  and 
manners  were  in  other  respects  above  reproach,  if  we 
except  a  weakness  for  the  soft  and  easy  felt  hat.  He 
knew  a  smattering  about  horses,  actresses,  society 
belles,  politics,  and  other  objects  of  public  interest ; 
he  could  dangle  his  arms  gracefully  and  be  properly 
stupid  in  a  ball  room  ;  and  he  could  participate  in  a 
game  of  billiards  with  elegance  and  success.  I  may 
add  also,  although  I  fear  it  will  have  but  little  influ- 
ence with  the  class  of  readers  whom  I  am  trying  to 
propitiate  in  his  favor,  that  he  had  been  through  col- 
lege, and  had  seen  the  time  when  he  could  tell  the 
meaning  of  a  Latin  quotation.  So  much  for  Robin- 


THE  SMITH  FAMILY  AND  ROBINSON.         21 

son  ;  he  is  made  as  presentable  as  the  truth  will 
allow. 

As  to  Mr.  Smith,  the  father.  He  was  a  bluff  and 
hearty  man  of  forty-five,  with  a  gray  moustache 
shading  a  fine  mouth,  and  a  good  color  in  his  face, 
indicating  that  he  lived  well,  and,  since  this  had  not 
all  settled  in  his  nose,  it  indicated  that  he  had  lived 
within  bounds.  In  other  words,  he  had  steered  clear 
of  the  Scylla  of  dyspepsia  without  being  laid  up  on 
the  Charybdis  of  gout.  Mr.  Smith  was  good-natured 
and  practical,  was  fond  of  Stacy,  idolized  Pauline, 
had  hopes  of  Chester,  and  could  not  get  along  with- 
out Robinson. 

What  took  this  group  to  Rio  de  Janeiro,  when  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  were  off  to  California  and  Italy  ? 
So  erratic  was  this  course  of  theirs  that  they  could 
hardly  be  classed  among  that  vast  army  of  restless 
spirits  known  as  tourists  for  pleasure.  A  study  of 
the  head  of  the  family  revealed  no  clue  to  his  profes- 
sion. He  came  from  a  country  where  a  man  of  en- 
ergy is  farmer's  boy,  school  teacher,  lawyer,  general 
in  the  army,  senator,  capitalist,  and  railway  presi- 
dent, all  in  one  lifetime.  So  there  was  but  little  hope 
of  finding  the  stamp  of  any  particular  calling  in  his 
genial  face ;  and  since  he  was  never  heard  to  talk 
shop,  his  business  will  have  to  remain  a  mystery  to 
us,  It  would  be  very  gratifying  to  make  him  a  min- 
ister plenipotentiary  to  Brazil,  and  assign  Mr.  Rob- 
inson to  him  as  secretary  of  legation  ;  but  an  examin- 
ation of  the  diplomatic  archives  at  Washington  would 
reveal  the  absence  of  the  names  of  Colonel  Dunkirk 
Smith  and  Henry  Clay  Robinson  from  their  pages. 


22  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Possibly  they  came  to  Brazil  to  inspect  a  diamond 
mine,  to  buy  coffee,  to  establish  some  new  industry, 
to  collect  a  claim  against  the  government,  to  find 
ground  for  a  colony,  to  convert  the  natives  —  but  no, 
Robinson  was  not  made  of  missionary  stuff ;  and  as 
for  the  Colonel,  he  was  a  profane  swearer,  not  as  a 
pirate  or  a  mule  driver,  but  in  genteel  and  moderate 
language,  as  was  becoming  to  a  member  of  good 
standing  in  the  Episcopal  church. 

There  was  at  least  a  general  understanding  that 
Robinson  and  Stacy  were  to  be  married  some  day. 
This  union  was  not  an  absolute  certainty,  but  then 
such  things  very  seldom  are  certain  until  the  saying 
of  the  priestly  words  of  which  there  can  be  no  recon- 
sideration. The  arrangement  was  evidently  an  agree- 
able one  to  all  parties  concerned,  either  directly  or 
indirectly.  For  the  Colonel  to  hear  of  an  estrange- 
ment between  his  Rob  and  his  Stacy  would  have 
shocked  him  as  much  as  a  legal  notification  that  his 
good  wife  at  home  had  instituted  proceedings  of  di- 
vorce against  him  during  his  absence.  The  love  of 
the  young  couple  was  probably  deeper  than  they 
knew.  It  was  not  the  passionate  and  absorbing  sen- 
timent of  a  two  weeks'  acquaintance,  but  was  the 
quiet,  steady,  and  undemonstrative  attachment  of 
years  of  growth,  during  which  Robinson  had  been  on 
intimate  relations  with  the  Smith  family.  The  boy 
Chester  was  delighted  with  their  matter-of-fact  con- 
duct. He  viewed  with  unspeakable  contempt  the 
lover's  language  of  sighs  and  groans  which  was  in 
vogue  in  the  Elizabethan  age,  and  still  prevails  in 
some  unhappy  parts.  A  man,  he  justly  reasoned, 


THE  SMITH  FAMILY  AND  ROBINSON.         23 

has  no  more  business  to  sigh  when  he  is  in  love  than 
to  snore  when  he  is  asleep  or  to  snuffle  when  he  re- 
turns thanks.  Perhaps  out  of  consideration  for 
Chester's  feelings,  perhaps  to  avoid  introducing  a 
topic  foreign  to  the  general  interest  of  the  family  cir- 
cle, they  were  not  anxious  to  hasten  the  day  of  full 
and  final  reconciliation  which  must  occur  when  the 
engagement  is  announced.  Bondage  is  bondage, 
even  if  its  fetters  be  of  clasped  hands  and  orange- 
blossoms  ;  and  so  long  as  each  was  sure  of  the  other, 
that  was  sufficient.  Perhaps,  as  Stacy  had  often 
hinted,  Robinson  had  treacherous  thoughts  of  find- 
ing among  the  daughters  of  Brazil  some  one  whose 

"  —  olhos  tao  negros,  tao  bellos,  tao  puros, 
De  vivo  luzir," 

would  fascinate  and  overwhelm  him,  making  him  for- 
get this  slender  blonde  at  his  side.  Stacy,  also,  since 
there  is  a  grain  of  perfidy  at  the  bottom  of  every 
woman's  heart,  may  have  entertained  ideas  of  an 
affair  of  sentiment  with  the  descendant  of  some  noble 
Lusitanian  line,  whose  very  long  name  and  respect- 
able ancestry  would  compensate  for  his  slender  legs 
and  want  of  income,  health,  and  brains.  Him  she 
would  take  proudly  home  to  exhibit  to  her  friends, 
in  the  same  category  with  her  parrot,  feather  fan,  and 
other  trophies  of  foreign  travel.  Stacy,  it  is  well  to 
remember,  was  but  mortal,  and  an  American  mortal 
at  that. 


III. 

THE  BLACK  PRINCE. 

When,  weening  to  return  whence  they  did  stray, 
They  cannot  finde  that  path  which  first  was  showne, 
But  wander  to  and  fro  in  waies  unknowne. — SPEXSER. 

WHEN  a  family  arrives  in  Rio  from  the  steady 
Saxon  countries  of  the  North,  there  are  but 
few  hotels  from  which  to  choose.  For  a  young  man, 
or  an  old  gentleman  who  has  left  his  wife  at  home,  or 
perhaps  for  the  ladies  of  those  Latin  nations  of  the 
South  who  are  languidly  indifferent  as  to  whom  they 
brush  garments  with,  the  list  may  be  a  longer  one. 
But  for  a  group  like  the  Smith  family,  not  to  men- 
tion Robinson,  there  were  but  few  places  to  go,  and 
they  elected  the  Hotel  of  the  Strangers. 

"I  like  this  place,"  said  Stacy,  approvingly,  as 
they  wandered  through  the  large  and  lofty  rooms. 
"It  is  so  quiet  and  cool  and  full  of  peace.  I  am 
tired  of  the  Grand  Hotels  and  the  Palace  Hotels 
and  the  Hotel  Splendids  of  this  world,  with  all  of 
their  magnificent  discomforts.  I  want  to  rest  now. 
The  Hotel  of  the  Strangers  !  What  a  hospitable 
name.  I  thought  from  what  they  told  me  that 
everything  was  a  hurly-burly  of  wickedness  in  this 
place,  and  here  it  is  as  peaceful  as  at  our  Quaker 
Aunt  Esther's." 

"And  as  sleepy,"  said  Robinson.  "However, 
even  that  has  its  benefits.  I  can't  imagine  a  noisy 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  25 

varlet  coming  around  at  half-past  four  in  the  morn- 
ing to  wake  up  No.  417,  next  door.  I  don't  believe 
they  have  any  late  arrivals  and  early  trains  here.  I 
dare  say  the  average  travel  in  and  out  of  the  city 
is  not  more  than  six  and  a  quarter  people  a  day." 

"It's  awful  slow,"  added  Chester.  uPoky  is  no 
name  for  it.  Let's  go  and  wake  up  a  servant,  just 
to  make  him  mad." 

"I  like  that,  too,"  said  Stacy.  "I  hate  tele- 
graphic promptness.  I  always  receive  a  nervous 
shock  from  the  suddenness  with  which  a  New  York 
hall-boy  makes  his  appearance  when  you  touch  a  bell. 
Just  as  if  you  had  pressed  the  spring  of  a  Jack-in-a^ 
box." 

"And  there's  no  elevator,  so  I  can  ride  down  the 
stair-railings,  can't  I,  pa?"  begged  Chester. 

"Yes,  my  boy." 

"And  there's  no  carpet,  so  I  can  dance  in  the  hall, 
can't  I  ?"  he  continued,  anxious  to  get  all  the  con- 
cessions possible. 

"Referred  to  the  porters  and  chambermaids," 
answered  the  Colonel.  "By  the  way,  things  do 
look  a  little  bare.  Are  you  cleaning  house,  my 
man?  Where  are  the  carpets  gone?"  addressing 
the  English  attendant. 

"Please,  sir,  it's  the  pulgas,"  replied  the  domes- 
tic, meekly. 

"Eh!     What?" 

"The  pulgas,  sir;  the  fleas.  They  lives  in  car- 
pets, sir." 

Stacy  was  visibly  shocked  by  this  crude  explana- 
tion. Robinson  changed  the  conversation. 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


"I  was  about  to  suggest,  Stacy,"  said  he,  "that 
it  would  be  a  tasty  idea  for  you  to  work  a  motto, 
like  we  used  to  see  at  home,  and  hang  it  up  there. 
This  will  be  our  principal  parlor,  you  know.  Only 
don't  make  it  'Home,  Sweet  Home.'  That  sort  of 
thing  is  getting  rather  stale.  Make  it  '  Be  Not  For- 
getful to  Entertain  Strangers.'  Particularly  appro- 
priate, is  it  not  ?  I  flatter  myself  that  it  was  a 
brilliant  thought  in  me.  And  for  the  other  side  of 
the  window  you  might  knit  a  companion-piece,  'For 
Thereby  — '  what's  the  rest  ? " 

"'For  Thereby  Some  have  Entertained  Angels 
Unawares.'  ' 

"That  means  Polly,"  cried  Chester. 

"No  matter  whom  it  means,  you  will  get  all  the 
benefit  of  it,  Stacy,  for  every  young  man  that  comes 
to  call  here  would  open  the  conversation  by  a  neat 
compliment  and  a  hint  that  you  were  the  angel  of 
this  hotel. 

'I  fancy  we'll  teach  the  folks  down  here  how  to 
fit  up  a  room  for  Christian  people  to  live  in,"  con- 
tinued Robinson,  with  a  self-satisfied  air. 

Then  they  had  some  lunch,  for  it- was  after  noon. 
It  was  composed  of  coffee,  black,  bitter,  and  strong, 
but  without  any  suspicion  of  chiccory  or  rye  ;  flaky 
cakes  that  fell  to  pieces  in  the  grasp,  like  the  petals 
of  an  over-ripe  rose;  white  and  waxy  bananas;  a  pan 
of  the  brown,  sticky,  goiaba  paste,  which  is  the 
staple  sweetmeat  of  Brazil;  and  immense  golden 
Bahia  oranges,  so  plump  and  full  of  juice  that  their 
skins  could  hold  no  more.  The  servant  in  waiting 
chose  the  fairest  of  these,  sliced  off  the  two  ends  of 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  27 

it,  stuck  a  fork  through  it,  and  ran  his  knife  up  its 
sides  with  a  few  deft  strokes;  the  rind  fell  away  from 
it  as  if  by  magic,  and  its  rich  juicy  heart  was  bare, 
without  the  moil  of  a  finger's  touch. 

He  gave  it  to  Pauline. 

u That's  what  you  might  call  a  full-dress  way  of 
eating  an  orange,  Stacy.  Shall  I  prepare  you  one  ? " 
asked  Robinson. 

"Rob  can  peel  a  watermelon  pretty  well,  work- 
ing from  the  inside,  can't  you,  Rob?"  The  boy 
Chester  had  spoken. 

Nobody  noticed  him,  but  he  was  bound  to  have  a 
hearing. 

"When  we  were  up  in  the  country  last  summer, 
me  and  Rob  went  out  one  night  and  —  and  — " 

Chester  stooped  down  to  rub  his  shin,  which 
Robinson's  boot  had  chanced  to  strike. 

' '  Where  did  you  go  ?  "  asked  Pauline,  beginning 
to  take  an  interest  in  the  story. 

' '  We  didn't  go  anywhere.     We  came  back  again. ' 

"Oh!     How  funny!" 

"Now,  children,  Rob  and  I  will  have  to  leave  you 
for  an  hour  or  two,"  said  the  Colonel.  "We're 
going  down  to  look  after  our  trunks." 

' i  But  aren't  you  afraid  of  getting  lost,  papa  ? 
This  is  a  big  city." 

"Never  fear,  Stacy.  Our  new  friend  is  going 
with  us.  You  have  not  seen  him  yet,  have  you  ?  I 
brought  letters  to  him  from  New  York,  and  met  him 
while  you  were  in  your  room.  He  is  a  naturalist, 
you  know;  a  scientific  gent,  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
I  think  you  will  find  him  interesting.  I  will  intro- 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


duce  him  when  we  come  back,  and  give  you  a  chance 
to  air  your  Darwin  and  Huxley  and  —  and  —  and 
Jules  Yerne,"  said  the  Colonel,  whose  scientific 
acquaintance  was  not  extensive. 

"  Do,  papa;  it  would  be  so  nice  to  meet  a  young 
man  who  can  talk  sober  sense." 

"  I  think  I  have  a  Latin  dictionary  in  my  trunk/' 
said  Robinson  to  himself.  "And  if  so,  I  will  as- 
tonish this  young  lady  yet." 

"So,  by-by,  children.  Study  your  Portuguese 
lesson,  Chester.  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  do  any- 
thing sensational,  or  you  may  get  into  trouble." 

"No  show  for  that,  pa.  But  I  wish  I'd  brought 
my  galvanized  battery  along.  I'd  like  to  shake  this 
house  up  a  little." 

No  sooner  had  the  gentlemen  turned  the  corner 
than  Chester  began  to  find  life  very  dull  at  the  hotel. 

"Come,  Stacy,  let's  go  and  take  a  walk  and  see 
something.  Rob  and  the  Colonel  are  having  the  fun 
all  to  themselves.  Come,  there  ain't  a  prettier  girl 
in  all  Rio  than  you  are.  I'll  be  proud  to  be  seen  in 
your  company." 

"No,  we'd  better  not,  Chetty,"  said  his  sister. 

"Bless  rne  !  I'll  take  care  of  you,  if  you're  afraid. 
You  needn't  be  afraid."  He  spoke  with  some  senti- 
ment of  scorn  in  his  voice. 

"Come,  Polly!  You'll  go,  I  know.  Oh,  we'll 
see  lots  of  beautiful  things.  "We'll  see  parrots  and 
butterflies,  and  cocoa-nut  trees  with  monkeys  up  in 
them  throwing  down  cocoa-nuts  at  you,  and  more 
monkeys  making  a  bridge  across  the  river,  and  arma- 
dillos rolling  faster  than  a  horse  can  run,  and  big 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  29 

snakes  swallowing  rhinoceroses,  and  bats  as  big  as 
barn  owls,  and  wild  folks  without  any  clothes  on 
them  — " 

"  Oh  !  "  shrieked  his  sisters. 

"  Well,  we  won't  go  as  far  as  that,  then.  We'll 
stop  under  a  cocoa-nut  tree  and  crack  a  nut  and  pour 
out  some  milk,  and  have  bread  and  milk  for  lunch." 

"But  where  is  the  bread?"  asked  Pauline,  her 
quiet  little  self  becoming  quite  aroused  with  interest. 

4 '  The  bread-fruit  tree,  child ;  that' s  where.  They 
have  things  handy  in  Brazil." 

"  Oh,  Stacy,  let's  go  !  "  cried  Pauline,  clapping  her 
hands. 

That  decided  the  question. 

As  the  three  stepped  out  into  the  street,  some 
languid  gentlemen,  overpowered  by  the  influence  of 
the  climate,  who  were  lolling  upon  the  upper  bal- 
cony, might  have  been  observed  to  apply  their  eye- 
glasses to  their  respective  eyes.  More  than  that, 
they  might  have  been  seen  to  remove  these  aids  to 
vision,  wipe  them  with  their  handkerchiefs  of  silk, 
and  replace  them  in  position;  this,  be  it  known, 
stands  for  extraordinary  interest  in  the  object  ob- 
served. Finally,  they  might  have  been  heard  to  in- 
dulge in  sundry  polyglot  compliments  upon  Stacy 
and  her  dainty  little  sister,  to  the  utter  neglect  of 
Chester. 

Upon  the  street,  also,  the  people  whom  they  met 
looked  at  Stacy,  some  admiringly,  some  wonder- 
ingly,  and  some  pityingly;  these,  the  compassionate, 
took  her  to  be  a  governess,  and  shrugged  their  shoul- 


30  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

ders  as  they  thought,  "  Que  diabo  !  What  a  time 
she  must  have  with  that  boy !  " 

So  they  wandered  on,  enjoying  many  things  and 
astonished  by  many  things  that  were  not  so  enjoy- 
able. Pauline,  in  fastidious  dismay,  was  lifting  her 
tidy  boots  higher  and  higher  at  each  step,  and  draw- 
ing her  breath  more  cautiously  at  every  inspiration, 
when,  to  the  relief  of  all,  they  came  to  a  little  gem 
of  a  park,  with  palm  trees  and  fountains.  As  the 
gate  stood  invitingly  open,  they  entered  and  sat 
down  upon  one  of  the  benches  there. 

It  was  a  very  peaceful  spot.  The  palms  waved 
sleepily,  the  water  flowed  sleepily,  and  the  landscape 
gardener  by  their  side  was  working  very  sleepily. 
He  plied  his  dibble  lazily,  punching  holes  in  the 
fresh-spread  soil  upon  which  he  was  squatting,  and 
transplanting  something  there. 

"What  is  he  doing,  Chester?     Go  and  see." 

The  boy  obeyed.  His  hands  lifted  in  astonish- 
ment. 

" What  is  he  doing?" 

"Setting  out  grass-roots.  Well,  of  all  things 
this  is  the  slowest.  I  thought  I  knew  something 
about  farming,  but  I  never  heard  of  seeding  down  a 
public  park  one  spear  at  a  time.  I'll  bet  he's  work- 
ing for  the  government.  I  say,  Stacy,  this  is  just 
what  I've  been  wanting." 

"How  so?" 

"I've  been  wanting  to  find  a  true  story  that  will 
be  so  big  that  nobody  will  believe  it,  like  the  kan- 
garoo yarn  which  the  English  sailor  told  the  pacha. 
This  will  answer.  I'll  remember  it  when  I  go 
home." 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  31 

An  old  negro  woman  came  along,  and  at  Chester's 
request  sold  some  oranges  to  Stacy;  then,  feeling 
that  this  was  profit  enough  for  one  day,  she  went 
and  sat  down  to  contemplate  the  fountain.  All 
nature,  animate  and  inanimate,  was  under  the  drowsy 
spell.  Even  the  ants  at  their  feet  worked  with  lag- 
gard motion ;  they  had  no  winter  to  provide  against, 
and  why  should  they  hurry?  In  irregular  column 
they  were  marching  across  the  walk,  each  with  a 
fragment  of  leaf  flung  over  its  shoulder. 

"What  does  this  procession  resemble,  Chester?" 
asked  Stacy.  "What  have  you  read  about  that 
these  remind  you  of  ?  " 

"A  Fenian  army  with  green  flags,"  was  the 
prompt  reply. 

"Oh,  no.  It's  the  moving  wood  in  'Macbeth.' 
Don't  you  remember  the  prophecy,  'Till  Birnam's 
wood  do  come  to  Dunsinane  '  ?  " 

"That's  too  hard,  Stacy.  Give  us  something 
easy.  Tell  us  a  fairy  story." 

"These  green-coated  ants  are  more  interesting 
than  the  fairies,  Chester.  If  you  follow  them  back 
to  the  tree  where  they  get  their  burdens  you  will 
find  a  number  of  them  up  in  the  tree,  cutting  off  the 
leaves  and  throwing  them  down.  And  when  night 
comes  and  they  all  go  home,  these  will  not  be  re- 
quired to  carry  any  load.' 

"This  is  all  very  nice,  but  it  isn't  thrilling  enough. 
If  we're  going  to  have  any  startling  adventures  to- 
day we  must  keep  jogging  along.  Come,  girls." 

They  stopped  to  gaze  a  moment  at  a  fine  building 
across  the  street,  with  marble  lions  guarding  its  por- 


32  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

tals,  emblematic  of  the  jealous  watch-care  that  was 
exercised  over  the  inmates  of  the  place  :  for  this  was 
a  college  for  young  ladies.  To-day,  however,  even 
the  marble  lions  seemed  overpowered  with  languor 
and  to  relax  their  vigilance.  <[• 

-  At  the  farther  end  of  the  park  stood  a  church  upon 
whose  facade  were  rude  sculptures  representing  the 
three  persons  of  the  holy  trinity.  The  artist's  ideas 
of  the  greatest  of  these  three  were  given  in  the  figure 
of  an  old  man,  bald-headed,  and  of  very  ordinary  ap- 
pearance. Stacy  shuddered,  and  hurried  the  children 
on  before  they  could  find  time  for  questions.  To 
her  this  seemed  greater  irreverence  than  the  false 
hair  upon  the  heads  of  the  saints  ;  and  in  all  of  her 
subsequent  residence  in  Brazil,  seeing  daily  eviden- 
ces of  the  grossness  of  the  national  religion,  she 
never  again  felt  a  shock  equal  to  this. 

They  turned  into  pleasanter  ways,  bordered  by  the 
dwellings  of  the  rich,  where  the  wanton  roses  and 
the  blossoms  of  the  creepers  leaned  over  the  fence 
and  climbed  over  the  wall  to  breathe  their  perfumes 
into  the  faces  of  the  passers-by. 

From  an  adjoining  street  there  came  the  sound  of 
a  weird  chant,  accompanied  by  the  clash  and  jingle 
of  musical  instruments.  They  waited  for  it  to  ap- 
proach. It  came  from  a  procession  of  negroes,  eight 
in  number,  of  equal  height,  who  were  carrying  upon 
their  heads  a  large  flat  box,  hidden  by  the  cloth 
which  was  spread  over  it.  Their  movements  were 
directed  by  a  leader,  a  ninth  man,  who  twirled  him- 
self upon  his  heel,  flung  his  arms,  and  gave  his 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  33 

orders,  combining  the  pomp  of  a  drum-major  with 
the  agility  of  a  dancing-master. 

For  castanets,  some  of  the  carriers  were  accout- 
ered  with  tambourines,  and  some  with  chocalhos,  a 
kind  of  a  rattle-  /ox  produced  by  the  clashing  of  a 
pint  of  beans  within  a  dry  gourd.  To  the  noise  of 
these  instruments  they  sang  an  oft-repeated  refrain 
of  rude  song,  in  such  barbaric  melody  as  only  the 
African  throat  can  produce.  This  may  not  be  music 
in  the  higher  sense  of  the  word,  but,  like  many  other 
heathen  rites,  it  is  very  interesting  and  enlivening, 
and  the  true  lover  of  the  wild  and  picturesque, 
though  he  be  an  old  resident  of  Rio  and  accustomed  to 
its  street  scenes,  cannot  resist  the  impulse  to  go  to  the 
window  and  be  pleased  when  this  cortege  passes  by. 

"  Here  they  come  !  They  are  savages  !"  explained 
Chester.  "They  have  killed  an  enemy  and  are  car- 
rying him  on  their  heads  to  the  temple  of  their  great 
Obsun-Jobsun,  where  they  will  burn  him, —  no,  they 
will  eat  him,  for  they  are  cannibals  in  South  Amer- 
ica. Come,  girls,  let's  go  and  see  the  ceremony  !" 

Stacy  did  not  apprehend  any  such  tragic  intentions 
on  the  part  of  the  negroes,  and  being  charmed  by 
this  new  description  of  music,  and  led  away  by  a 
girl's  curiosity  to  see  the  import  of  all  this  opera, 
she  consented  to  follow  behind. 

"But  we  must  not  keep  too  close  ;  we  must  not 
seem  to  be  following  them.  It  wouldn't  be  dig- 
nified." 

They  sauntered  along  at  some  distance  in  the  rear, 
taking  no  note  of  the  name  or  direction  of  the  streets 
through  which  they  went. 
3 


34:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO, 

The  procession  never  slackened  pace.  They  kept 
step  with  military  precision.  When  they  turned  a 
corner  the  first  man  marked  time  in  his  tracks  and 
the  marching  flank  lengthened  their  strides.  In  one 
of  these  circlings  a  gust  of  wind  lifted  the  pall  and 
revealed  the  burnished  wood  of  a  piano. 

At  last  they  came  to  a  house  before  which  the 
pavement  was  littered  with  boxes,  indicating  that  it 
was  moving-day.  A  little  girl  in  the  window  clapped 
her  hands  and  ran  to  the  door. 

"There  comes  the  piano  !"  she  cried. 

The  negro  in  command  never  glanced  toward  the 
house,  but  led  his  band  past  it  as  if  their  destination 
was  a  mile  away. 

"  Oh,  dear !"  said  the  little  girl,  in  disappointment. 

Then,  at  a  signal  from  their  leader,  the  carriers 
turned  into  the  street,  circled  around,  and,  with 
steady  tramp  and  song,  approached  the  door  from 
the  front.  It  was  like  a  great  battering-ram  bearing 
down  upon  the  house.  The  little  girl  retreated  in 
affright. 

The  piano-movers  backed  into  the  street  again,  and 
resumed  their  series  of  feints,  approaches,  and  re- 
treats, sober  as  priests  and  with  never  a  break  in 
their  barbaric  chorus.  Why  all  of  these  vain  tac- 
tics, do  you  ask  ?  Nobody  knows.  It  is  the  custom. 

When  these  evolutions  were  over  and  the  piano  was 
in  position,  the  proprietor  of  the  house,  after  paying 
the  captain  of  the  squad,  disbursed  a  bonus  of  nickel 
coins  among  the  men. 

" Those  are  to  'kill  the  beast'  with,"  said  Ches- 
ter. "  I  have  read  about  it  in  books." 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE.  35 

"What  beast?"  asked  Stacy.  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

"It  is  metaphorical.  'To  drink  your  'ealth,'  as 
the  English  cabbies  say.  When  these  darkies  down 
here  do  an  errand  for  you,  they  always  want  five 
cents  extra  to  'kill  the  beast'  with.  Then  they  go 
around  the  corner,  to  the  nearest  venda,  and  form  a 
procession." 

"What  do  they  form  a  procession  for?"  asked 
Stacy,  innocently. 

"To  drive  another  nail  into  their  coffins,"  he  re- 
plied. 

"Oh,  you  horrid  boy  !  I  believe  you  are  talking 
slang." 

"I  knew  it  all  the  time.  But  come,  girls,  let's  go 
home." 

"  Where  are  we  ?  "  asked  Stacy.  "  Where  is  the 
hotel  ?" 

"I'll  take  you  right  there." 

But  he  did  not.  He  started  out  bravely,  but  be- 
fore he  had  gone  half  a  mile  his  steps  faltered  with 
indecision.  When  he  came  to  a  cross  street  he 
looked  up  and  down  its  course. 

"I — I  guess  you'd  better  go  ahead,  Stacy.  I'm 
tired.  I'll  come  along  behind  and  keep  the  dogs 
off." 

"Why,  are  you  lost,  child?" 

"No,  not  exactly  lost,  Stacy.  But  then  I  can't 
say  that  I  know  exactly  where  we  are." 

"  Didn't  you  notice  the  streets  as  we  came  up  ?  Is 
this  one  of  them  ?" 

"These  plaguy  streets  run  into  each  other  so  that 


36  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

I  don't  know  where  we  are  —  or  whether  we're  there 
or  not." 

"Well,  this  is  a  nice  predicament.  How  humili- 
ating !  We'll  have  to  inquire  of  the  first  English  per- 
son that  we  meet,  and  that  will  make  us  ridiculous." 

While  they  were  standing  there  engaged  in  con- 
versation, a  Brazilian  boy  of  perhaps  fifteen  years  of 
age,  dressed  unostentatiously  but  in  the  best  of  taste, 
passed  them,  touching  his  hat,  and  gave  them  a  look 
which,  without  being  impertinent,  was  full  of  intelli- 
gence and  sympathetic  interest. 

"He  knows  English,  Chester.  I  can  see  it  in  his 
eye.  Speak  to  him  and  ask  him  where  we  are." 

But  this  was  rendered  unnecessary  by  the  return 
of  the  person  in  question.  He  came  up  to  them,  hat 
in  hand,  and  said: 

U0an  I  asseest  you  ?" 

"  We  wish  to  go  to  the  Hotel  dos  Estrangeiros," 
said  Stacy,  eagerly. 

"I  will  go  before  of  you,"  responded  the  youth 
politely,  and  beckoned  to  them  to  follow. 

"We  can  trust  him,  Chester,"  said  Stacy,  with 
her  quick  intuition  of  character.  "  But  perhaps  we'd 
better  walk  half  a  block  behind,  so  as  not  to  appear 
to  be  in  his  company." 

u]S"o,  he  might  not  like  to  be  seen  with  us,"  sug- 
gested Chester.  "  See,  he  doesn't  take  any  notice  of 
us  except  to  be  sure  that  we  are  following.  I  guess 
he's  as  much  ashamed  of  us  as  we  are  of  him.  I  guess 
he  must  belong  to  the  nobility.  I  saw  some  kind  of 
a  crest  in  his  hat  when  he  held  it  in  his  hand." 

Stacy  had  considered  the  apparent  neglect  with 


THE  BLACK  PRINCE. 


which  they  were  treated  by  this  young  stranger,  and 
the  distance  between  them,  as  the  result  of  delicacy 
and  kind  consideration  on  his  part  ;  but  now,  accept- 
ing Chester's  construction  of  this  conduct,  she  was 
piqued,  and  began  to  reason  within  herself  that  a  re- 
spectable American  family  is  equal  to  the  titled  aris- 
tocracy of  any  monarchy  under  the  sun:  a  thing 
which  it  is  very  difficult  for  the  average  American 
girl  to  prove  to  herself. 

"He  is  very  dark,"  she  protested,  as  if  still  in 
doubt  concerning  Chester's  suppositions.  "  He  is 
almost  a  mulatto." 

"All  of  the  swells  are  dark  down  here,"  replied 
Chester.  u  It  is  the  influence  of  the  climate." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  saw  an  armorial  device  ?" 

"Sure." 

"What  was  it  like?" 

c  '  It  looked  to  me  like  an  alligator  swallowing  a 
mule,  but  I  suppose  it  couldn't  be  that." 

Stacy  could  not  but  admire  the  perfect  repose  of 
manner  in  the  person  of  their  guide.  She  observed 
also  the  small  foot  and  arched  instep. 

"Blood  will  tell,"  she  was  obliged  to  confess  to 
herself.  "And  birth  is  more  than  education." 

Almost  unconsciously  she  quickened  her  steps, 
but  he  did  the  same.  He  would  not  permit  the  dis- 
tance between  them  to  be  shortened.  Stacy  felt  bit- 
terly that  she  had  been  snubbed. 

Finally  he  stopped  upon  the  corner  and  looked 
idly  across  the  street.  As  our  party  came  up  to  him 
he  made  a  scarcely  perceptible  inclination  of  his  head 
to  the  left,  and  said  : 


38  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  There  ees  the  hotel,  senhora." 

Stacy  looked  the  thanks  that  she  did  not  dare  to 
bow,  for  the  customary  group  of  gentlemen  were  ob- 
serving her  from  the  door  of  i  The  Strangers. ' 

"Another  romance  ended,"  sighed  she,  as  she 
passed  on.  "Of  course  he  will  never  notice  us 
again.  It  is  because  we  are  helpless  foreigners  that 
he  has  been  so  kind  to  us.  The  upper  classes  of  this 
country  are  said  to  be  very  hospitable." 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Stacy,  a  young  lady  of 
twenty,  should  be  interested  in  a  boy  of  fifteen  ;  but 
then  the  Brazilian  boy  of  fifteen  is  already  a  young 
man  in  actions  and  appearance. 

As  they  drew  near  to  the  hotel  she  gave  Chester  a 
wholesome  caution. 

""We'll  not  talk  much  about  to-day's  adventures, 
Chester.  It  might  sound  egotistical,  perhaps." 

Their  father  met  them  on  the  door-step. 

"  You  remarkable  children  !  "  he  said,  admiringly. 
"  I  wonder  that  you  did  not  get  lost." 

"You  forget  that  /  was  along  papa,"  answered 
Chester. 


IT. 
STIFF-KECKED  HEATHEN. 

Marcus,  we  are  but  shrubs,  no  cedars  we, 

No  big-boned  men  framed  of  the  Cyclops'  size ; 

But  metal,  Marcus,  steel  to  the  very  back. 

— SHAKESPEARE. 

FROM  Babel  down  to  Monaco  there  was  probably 
never  a  greater  confusion  of  tongues  than  this  at 
the  Hotel  of  the  Strangers.  The  civilized  world  was 
represented  there,  with  not  a  few  specimens  from  the 
semi-barbarous.  There  were  gentlemen  of  business, 
gentlemen  of  leisure,  gentlemen  of  travel,  and  gen- 
tlemen of  diplomacy,  and  since  some  of  the  latter 
had  been  attached  at  Washington  at  one  time  or  an- 
other, and  since,  as  it  afterward  turned  out,  Colonel 
Smith  had  once  represented  a  New  York  district  in 
Congress,  there  was  common  ground  upon  which 
they  could  meet.  And  since,  farther,  the  Colonel, 
for  his  pretty  daughter's  sake,  was  considered  a  de- 
sirable acquaintance,  the  rest  of  the  world  were  will- 
ing to  meet  him  half-way. 

Their  earliest  and  most  valued  acquaintance  was 
the  naturalist,  Mr.  Kingston,  who,  although  yet 
young,  had  roamed  the  world  over,  and  was  now 
lingering  in  that  paradise  of  naturalists,  Brazil.  He 
was  a  favorite  with  all  classes  of  people.  He  could 
speak  with  every  man  in  his  own  language,  and  was 
therefore  a  welcome  guest  at  '  The  Strangers. '  At 


40  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

capturing  an  insect  or  explaining  a  fern  lie  was 
equally  at  home,  and  was  therefore  useful  to  the 
ladies  of  this  community,  who  were  all  dabblers  in 
science,  after  an  amateur  fashion.  In  all  of  the 
naturalist's  functions  of  sketching,  stuffing,  and  pre- 
serving, he  was  an  adept.  Although  with  a  dozen 
scientific  nomenclatures  at  his  command,  he  was 
without  pedantry,  and  used  the  simplest  language, 
winning  the  devotion  of  the  children  as  he  taught 
them  the  voices  of  the  birds,  the  habits  of  the  ani- 
mals, and  the  legends  of  the  flowers,  whistling  to 
them  the  song  of  the  sabia  and  pointing  out  to  them 
the  natural  "88"  in  the  wings  of  the  butterfly  of 
that  name. 

He  was  now  introduced  by  the  Colonel. 

"Mr.  Kingston,  this  is  my  household.  Stacy, 
P'line,  and  Chester." 

His  attention  was  attracted  by  Pauline. 

"I'll  declare  it  is  refreshing  to  see  a  blonde  once 
more.  It  is  like  a  gleam  of  sunshine  through  the 
clouds  of  a  dark  day.  I  am  tired  of  brunettes.  I 
never  before  fully  appreciated  the  force  of  the  remark 
of  the  old  Frenchman  who  said  that  God  gives  the 
blonde  to  the  people  of  the  North  to  console  them 
for  the  absence  of  the  sun.  They  even  make  their 
saints  and  angels  out  of  brunettes  down  here ;  but 
this  is  more  my  idea  of  an  angel.  Come  here,  Stacy, 
and  give  me  a  kiss,  won't  you,  please?  " 

"That's  not  Stacy  — that's  P'line,"  hastily  spoke 
up  the  Colonel,  in  alarm. 

It  was  hard  to  tell  whether  the  stranger  or  Stacy 
blushed  the  redder. 


STIFF-NECKED  HEATHEN.  41 

"  See  the  fire- works,  Rob, "  said  Chester,  in  a  stage 
whisper. 

"Come,  Pauline,"  the  Naturalist  said,  correcting 
himself.  "I  have  a  little  sister  just  like  you,  some- 
where at  home." 

The  child  complied,  raising  herself  on  tiptoe  to 
reach  his  face.  This  action  on  the  part  of  the  dis- 
cerning Pauline  was  all  the  certificate  that  was 
needed  for  the  introduction  of  any  one  into  the  full 
confidence  of  the  Smith  family. 

"His  talk  doesn't  sound  much  like  Darwinism.  I 
expect  he  will  be  calling  me  an  angel  next, ' '  thought 
Stacy.  Hqwever,  he  was  more  practical  in  his  ad- 
dress to  her. 

"It  is  too  bad  that  you  have  to  wait  for  your 
trunks,  Miss  Smith." 

"Yes,  Stacy,"  continued  her  father.  "Rob  and 
I  got  ours  through  all  right,  but  you  will  have  to  wait 
until  to-morrow.  You  see  we  were  a  little  late. 
The  men  graciously  consented  to  see  ours  opened 
and  shut  again,  but  when  they  came  to  yours  they 
saw  a  lady's  name  on  them,  and  drew  a  long  breath 
and  said  they  would  have  to  begin  a  new  day  with 
those.  It's  wonderful  what  a  knowledge  of  human 
nature  those  custom  house  people  have,  all  the 
world  over.  Now,  he  didn't  look  into  our  trunks  at 
all;  he  just  looked  into  our  faces,  saw  no  signs  of 
smuggling  there,  and  passed  us  on.  But  I'll  venture 
to  prophesy  that  he  will  go  to  the  bottom  of  yours, 
and  like  as  not  hang  things  out  around  on  the  neigh- 
boring boxes.  It's  because  you're  a  woman,  my 
dear." 


42  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

The  Colonel  spoke  in  a  superior  way  that  irritated 
his  daughter. 

4 '  You  would  not  talk  that  way  if  mamma  was  here. 
But  I  don't  care  how  much  duty  he  charges,  /won't 
have  to  pay  it." 

She  had  her  father  at  a  disadvantage. 

"I  hope  you  didn't  bring  anything  contraband," 
he  said.  "They  are  very  particular,  not  to  say 
rapacious,  and  even  a  new  pair  of  shoes  is  liable  to 
confiscation.  You  should  have  been  very  careful." 

"And  yet  I  happen  to  know  that  Mr.  Robinson 
had  in  his — " 

uSh-h-h!  The  walls  have  ears,"  remarked  that 
gentleman. 

"Now  let  us  adjourn  to  the  balcony  and  look  for 
the  procession.  You  will  see  a  caravan  that  will 
astonish  you,  Stacy." 

They  were  already  in  sight,  a  line  of  half  a  dozen 
negroes  bearing  as  many  boxes  upon  their  heads. 
Alternately  trotting  a  few  steps  and  walking  an 
equal  distance,  they  came  toward  the  hotel. 

"Mark  that  fellow  with  the  camel-back  trunk," 
exclaimed  Robinson.  "Why,  you  have  no  idea  how 
heavy  that  trunk  is.  In  the  States  it  tasked  the 
united  strength  of  two  burly  porters,  while  in  Eng- 
land four  beef-eaters  found  room  at  it,  and  numerous 
others  stood  around  and  wanted  fees  just  for  looking 
at  it,  it  was  so  heavy.  It  is  a  very  heavy  trunk,  in- 
deed. It  contains  my  library,  and  I  would  have  you 
to  know  that  there  isn't  much  light  literature  in  that. 
Let's  see,  there  is  a  dictionary  or  two,  a  little  of 


STIFF-NECKED  HEATHEN.  43 

Kant  and  Schelling,  a  volume  of  English  mirth,  the 
Colonel's  speech  on  the  national  debt — " 

"  I  always  knew  there  were  some  solid  arguments 
in  that,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"  See,  the  weight  of  it  seems  to  crush  him  at  every 
step,  but  he  recovers  himself  each  time.  He  hasn't 
stopped  to  breathe  since  he  left  the  custom  house, 
more  than  a  mile  away.  No  wonder  the  slender 
wretch  is  bow-legged.  But  such  strength  !  I  never 
will  believe  that  the  climate  of  Brazil  is  enervating. 
Why  aren't  you  astonished,  Stacy  ?"  he  asked,  re- 
proachfully. 

She  was  fanning  herself  in  a  cool  and  unsympa- 
thetic way. 

"Oh,  we  have  seen  a  more  wonderful  sight  than 
that  this  afternoon.  "We  have  seen  a  piano  carried 
that  way." 

"  Oh,  dear,"  groaned  Robinson.  "That's  equal  to 
two  trunks.  I  see  I  can't  get  up  a  sensation  here." 

"But  it  took  nine  darkeys  to  one  piano,"  chimed 
in  her  brother. 

"  Chester,  I  am  telling  this  story.  It  was  the  most 
delightful  sight  I  ever  witnessed.  They  went  along 
as  straight  as  so  many  soldiers,  and  beat  their  tam- 
bourines and  rattled  their — what  were  those  things, 
Chetty  ? " 

"Squashes." 

"ISTo,  gourds.  They  beat  their  tambourines  and 
rattled  their  gourds,  and  first  one  would  sing  a  line 
of  song  and  then  all  would  join  in  the  refrain  — 

"A  kind  of 

'  Yo,  ho, — blow  the  man  down ! ' " 


44  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

put  in  Chester,  who  remembered  the  midnight  chant- 
ing of  the  sailors  on  shipboard. 

"  And  then  another  line  of  song  and  then  — 
'  0,  give  us  some  time  for  to  blow  the  man  down ! '  " 

sang  Chester  again. 

"Chester,  I  am  telling  this  story." 
"  Well,  I  guess  I'm  your  first  assistant." 
"  And  so  that  sensitive  box  of  musical  nerves  was 
carried  all  the  way  without  a  single  jar.     It  is  a  very 
sensible  way  of  moving.     If  I  was  a  man  I  would  in- 
troduce it  in  New  York." 

"I  have  often  thought  myself,"  said  the  Natural- 
ist, "that  however  much  Brazil  may  owe  us  for  rail- 
ways, agricultural  implements,  and  the  like,  if  she 
would  only  send  a  squad  of  piano-movers  to  the 
States  her  debt  would  be  fully  paid." 

"Do  they  carry  other  furniture  that  way  as  well  ? " 
"  Everything,  absolutely  everything,  from  a  cradle 
to  a  coffin.  The  streets  are  too  narrow  for  carts  and 
drays,  and  so  the  blacks  are  the  beasts  of  burthen. 
All  of  the  porters  and  hucksters  perch  their  loads 
upon  their  heads,  and  that  gives  the  crowded  city 
elbow-room." 

"Not  quite  everything,"  contradicted  Chester. 
"  I  saw  a  woman  with  her  baby  lashed  to  her  back, 
to-day,  like  the  picture  of  an  Indian  squaw. " 

"This  is  what  gives  them  their  upright  bearing," 
continued  the  Naturalist.  "They  are  as  straight  as 
palms,  every  one  of  them.  If  you  will  notice,  you 
will  see  that  a  gang  of  slaves  are  a  finer  looking  body 
of  men  than  an  equal  number  of  soldiers  here.  They 
are  not  so  slouchy,  and  laggard,  and  stoop-shouldered. 


STIFF-NECKED  HEATHEN.  45 

If  I  were  general  of  the  army  I  would  make  the  men 
carry  cannon-balls  on  their  heads  for  an  hour  every 
day.  It  would  give  them  self-respect  in  the  course 
of  time." 

"What  a  beautiful  illustration  of  adversity  this 
makes,"  said  Stacy.  "It  strengthens  and  straightens 
what  it  seems  to  crush." 

The  Naturalist  continued: 

"  I  have  seen  a  stalwart  negress  walking  the  street 
with  a  little  tin  box,  weighing  a  few  ounces,  balanced 
on  her  head.  She  carried  herself  in  a  way  that  Zen- 
obia  or  any  other  queen  might  envy,  and  yet  she 
owed  all  of  her  dignity  to  the  can  of  yeast  powder  on 
her  crest." 

Robinson  concluded  that  it  was  about  time  for  him 
to  say  something  ;  the  Naturalist  was  having  it  all 
his  own  way. 

"Those  women,"  he  continued,  drawing  upon  his 
ancient  history,  "may  be  called  the  Caryatides  of 
the  present  day." 

Then  he  thought  to  himself,  "I  don't  talk  much, 
but  when  I  do,  it  is  to  the  mark." 

"Yes,"  responded  the  Naturalist,  "and  the  men, 
they  are  the  Telamones  or  Atlantes  of  mythology, 
who  bore  the  skies  upon  their  shoulders." 

Robinson  realized  that  he  had  not  made  much  by 
this  covert  attack. 

"Take  them  all  together,"  said  the  Colonel,  "I 
guess  these  folks  are  the  stiff-necked  heathen  that 
the  Bible  tells  about." 

"Chapter  and  verse,  please,  papa,"  asked  Stacy, 
demurely. 


4:6  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"Details  are  pedantic,  my  child.  You  should 
educate  yourself  up  to  generalities,  and  then  you  can 
understand  us  when  we  talk." 

The  fine  points  of  this  conversation  were  all  lost 
upon  Pauline.  So  she  appealed  to  the  Naturalist. 

"  What  else  have  you  seen  ?  " 

uOn  their  heads  ?  Oh,  I  have  seen  monkeys  and 
kittens  and  demijohns  and  umbrellas  and  gas  pipe 
and  —  I  told  you  about  the  coffins,  didn't  I?  —  and 
mirrors  and  aquarium  globes  and  —  " 

"  Did  you  ever  see  one  man  on  another's  head  ?  " 
asked  Chester. 

"No." 

"I  have  —  in  a  circus,"  replied  the  boy. 

By  way  of  illustration  of  the  topic  under  discus- 
sion, the  Naturalist  proceeded  to  tell  a  little  story, 
for  whose  truth  he  vouched. 

"  In  the  early  days  of  railway  building  in  this  em- 
pire," he  said,  "the  laborers  employed  upon  the 
work  of  excavation  along  the  route  carried  away  the 
dirt  in  baskets  upon  their  heads.  An  enterprising 
contractor  thought  it  would  be  economical  to  intro- 
duce the  time-honored  custom  of  wheelbarrows  upon 
his  contract,  and  sent  up  a  number  for  the  use  of 
his  gang.  They  accepted  them  without  a  murmur, 
shovelled  in  the  gravel,  and  then,  as  each  one  filled 
his  barrow,  he,  with  the  assistance  of  a  companion, 
balanced  it  accurately  upon  his  head,  and  walked 
away  with  it  to  the  dump. ' ' 


Y. 

PEDKO'S  PENCE. 

They  have  another  drinke  not  good  at  meat,  called  Cauphe, 
made  of  a  berry  as  bigge  as  a  small  beane,  dryed  in  a  furnace  and 
beate  to  powder,  of  a  soote  colour,  in  taste  a  little  bitterish,  that 
they  seethe  and  drinke  hote  as  may  be  endured. — BLOUNT. 

A  FTEK  dinner,  which  the  Naturalist  shared  with 
~£A.  them,  the  party  gathered  in  the  parlor  to  sip 
their  coffee.  This  they  received  in  tiny  cups.  It  was 
the  genuine  berry,  untainted  by  poisonous  adultera- 
tion, strong  and  unwholesome,  pure  and  undiluted. 
It  naturally  became  the  subject  of  conversation. 

"You  do  not  get  coffee  here  as  you  do  in  the 
States,"  observed  Mr.  Kingston. 

"  For  which  may  we  be  duly  thankful,"  remarked 
Robinson. 

1 '  But  I  mean  that  you  do  not  get  it  in  the  same 
proportions.  There  you  drink  a  temperate  mixture 
of  two  fingers  of  milk  to  a  cup  of  coffee.  Here  it  is 
either  strong  as  an  essence,  or  insignificantly  weak, 
according  as  you  call  for  black  coffee  or  coffee  with 
milk.  The  latter  means  a  cup  of  milk  with  just 
enough  coffee  —  a  spoonful  perhaps  —  to  give  it  a 
tinge  and  a  taste." 

"  This  stuff  must  be  unhealthy,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"Don't  drink  it,  Pauline." 

"It  is,"  replied  the  Naturalist.  "It  is  ruinous 
to  nerves.  Observe  the  Brazilians  whom  you  see, 

47 


48  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

and  note  the  amount  of  involuntary  motion.  Why, 
once  upon  a  time  I  accompanied  a  lady  friend  into 
a  restaurant  of  this  city,  for  a  bite  of  lunch.  The 
place  was  full  of  people.  She  looked  once  around 
and  then  turned  to  me  with  alarm  in  her  face  and 
touched  my  arm.  'Oh,  Mr.  Kingston,  what  is  the 
matter  with  these  men  ?  Everyone's  knees  are 
shaking.'  Sure  enough,  there  wasn't  a  quiet  knee 
in  the  room.  Every  one  was  oscillating  with  the 
methodical  beat  of  a  piece  of  machinery,  or  working 
up  and  down  like  a  pump-rod.  Too  much  strong 
coffee  was  the  matter.  The  Brazilians  are  not  in- 
temperate in  the  use  of  alcoholic  drinks,  but  they 
take  this  beverage  immoderately  strong." 

"They  must  have  put  the  Turkish  proverb  in 
practice  here,"  said  Robinson. 

"And  what  is  that  ?  "  asked  Stacy. 

"  'Coffee,  to  be  good,  must  be  black  as  night, 
bitter  as  death,  and  hot  as  hell.'  There,  I  was 
afraid  you  would  be  shocked,"  he  added,  observing 
the  frown  gather  upon  her  fair  forehead.  "But,  I 
beg  of  you,  don't  be  too  hastily  offended.  I  assure 
you  there  is  nothing  profane,  nor  even  vulgar,  in 
that  quotation.  I  have  reflected  upon  it  long  and 
seriously,  and  that  is  my  decision.  It  is  expressive, 
eloquent,  and  even  poetical,  if  you  view  it  from  a 
Turkish  and  not  an  American  standpoint." 

"You  have  now  an  opportunity  to  forget  some  of 
your  native  argot,  Mr.  Robinson.  Why  don't  you 
do  it  ?  "  asked  Stacy. 

"Again  I  assure  you,  Stacy,  that  there  was  noth- 
ing bad  about  that  expression.  It  is  either  very  low 


PEDRO'S  PENCE.  49 


or  beyond  all  reproach,  according  as  you  choose  to 
mean  and  accept  it.  I  mean  it  in  the  latter  sense, 
and  taken  as  a  poetic  conception  it  is  no  worse  than 
the  thousand  other  heated  metaphors  which  we  find 
in  Oriental  literature." 

"It  does  not  sound  well,  anyway,"  protested 
Stacy. 

"And  is  it  my  fault  that  the  American  people 
have  taken  that  forcible  simile  and  degraded  it  into  a 
hackneyed  phrase  applicable  to  everything  above  a 
temperature  of  eighty  degrees  Fahrenheit,  from  a 
day  in  August  to  an  invalid's  foot-bath  ?  " 

"Joachim,"  said  the  Naturalist  to  the  servant, 
"  take  away  these  things  and  bring  up  my  mate  outfit. 
Coffee  is  irritative  and  provokes  dissension.  Now  I 
will  show  you  a  drink  that  is  innocent,  soothing,  re- 
freshing, and  strengthening,  all  in  one  draught ;  in 
short,  the  nearest  approach  to  the  elixir  of  life  that 
has  yet  been  found.  The  Indian  drinks  it  in  the 
morning  and  it  fits  him  for  a  day's  travel,  and  at 
night  and  it  lulls  him  into  a  deep  and  peaceful  sleep. 
It  is  a  stimulant  and  an  opiate,  nutriment  and  re- 
freshment. It  is  the  wild  Paraguay  tea,  or  mate,  the 
foliage  of  the  forest  tree  Ilex  Paraguay ensis. " 

The  servant  returned  with  an  earthen  pot  of  hot 
water  ;  a  caddy  of  the  tea  in  question,  consisting  of 
a  dried  leaf,  broken  and  almost  pulverized  ;  a  fancy 
gourd,  with  silver  trimmings  ;  and  the  lombilha^  a 
tube  expanding  at  one  end  into  a  bulb  of  wicker- 
work,  to  act  as  a  strainer  in  imbibing  the  liquid. 

A  quantity  of  the  leaf  was  put  into  the  gourd  ;  hot 
water  was  turned  on,  and  the  tea  was  allowed  to 
4 


50  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

steep  ;  the  bulbous  strainer  was  rooted  down  into  the 
mess,  and  the  beverage  was  ready. 

"As  you  see,  we  have  only  one  straw,  and  will 
have  to  pass  the  drink  around,"  said  the  Naturalist. 
"But  that  constitutes  its  secret  charm.  If  there  is  a 
bond  of  brotherhood  existing  between  two  soldiers 
who  drink  from  the  same  canteen,  how  much  more 
must  it  be  conducive  to  the  harmony  of  a  fireside 
group  to  drink  through  the  same  straw  !  It  is  on  the 
same  principle  as  the  pipe  of  peace  which  one  Indian 
smokes  after  another,  thus  pledging  amity  to  his 
neighbor." 

"But  I  should  think  you  would  have  found  some 
disagreeable  neighbors  in  the  course  of  your  travels 
in  Brazil,"  said  Stacy. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  once  I  smoked  the  calumet  with  a  circle 
of  Sioux,  and  after  that  experience  I  have  forgotten 
how  to  be  fastidious." 

'  But  aren't  you  allowed  to  wipe  the  mouth-piece 
off?"  asked  Chester. 

"  Not  under  the  prevailing  code." 

"Then  I  want  to  drink  after  Stacy." 

There  were  two  or  three  others  who  looked  as  if 
they  would  like  to  drink  after  Stacy. 

The  potion  was  first  tendered  to  Pauline.  She 
sipped  it  and  said  : 

"  It  tastes  like  pennyroyal." 

The  Naturalist  carried  the  gourd  to  Stacy. 

"Drink,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  not  unpleasant,"  was  her  verdict.  "  But  I 
think  I  prefer  the  old-fashioned  Chinese  tea." 

She  turned  and  handed  the  bowl  to  her  father. 


PEDRO'S  PENCE.  51 

"It  tastes  like  the  yarbs  of  my  grandmother's 
garret,"  said  the  Colonel,  smacking  his  lips. 

It  was  Robinson's  turn  next. 

"  It  will  never  be  popular  among  the  women  of  the 
United  States,"  said  that  gentleman.  "  Its  flavor  is 
good,  but  it  lacks  that  subtle  quality  which  promotes 
gossip  and  a  friendly  interest  in  our  neighbors." 

Chester  came  next. 

"It  tastes  of  Rob's  last  cigar,"  was  his  decision, 
as  he  wiped  his  lips. 

Then  the  Naturalist  tried  it. 

"It  is  not  hot  enough.  The  water  should  be 
almost  boiling  hot ;  that  is  the  way  the  natives  take 
it.  It  is  wonderful  what  tough  mouths  they  have. 
I  once  saw  a  Brazilian,  to  exhibit  his  powers,  take  a 
mouthful  of  this  tea  and  squirt  it  out  upon  a  dog 
that  was  lying  near  him.  It  scalded  the  animal  so 
that  he  howled  with  pain." 

"While  we  are  experimenting  with  these  native 
products,"  said  Robinson,  "I  would  like  to  try 
some  cigars.  Mr.  Kingston,  if  you  will  loan  me 
your  boy  for  fifteen  minutes,  I  will  send  him  out  for 
some  specimens  of  the  native  weed.  I  have  a  curi- 
osity to  try  them.  That  was  all  a  pleasant  little  fic- 
tion of  Stacy's  about  cigars  in  my  trunk." 

"Certainly,"  and  Kingston  rang  for  his  body- 
servant. 

"Bemvindo,  here.  Go  and  get  this  gentleman  a 
dozen  of  the  best  Bahia  charutos  you  can  find.  The 
very  best,  mind  you.  No  ordinary  cheap  trash." 

"I  must  give  him  some  more  money.  A  dollar 
won't  buy  a  dozen  good  cigars,  surely." 


52  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  Trust  Bemvindo  for  that.  The  boy  has  a  genius 
for  making  advantageous  purchases,  and  he  is  at 
your  disposal  at  any  time." 

Bemvindo  bowed  and  departed,  mentally  resolv- 
ing to  show  himself  worthy  of  the  compliments 
showered  upon  him. 

As  he  went  out  his  face  was  turned  toward  Ches- 
ter and  Stacy.  They  saw  the  same  elegant  stripling 
who  had  rescued  them  from  discomfiture  and  piloted 
them  to  the  hotel;  but  he  was  too  well  trained  to  let 
any  sign  of  recognition  escape  him.  Looking  from 
the  window  that  afternoon,  he  had  seen  this  trio 
leave  the  hotel  aimlessly,  and  he  feared  that  they 
would  meet  with  some  perplexity  before  their  return. 
He  knew  that  they  were  friends  of  his  master's,  and 
so  he  saw  the  path  of  duty  straight  before  him ;  it 
was  to  follow  them,  and,  in  time  of  need,  offer  his 
services. 

Chester  looked  at  Stacy,  and  Stacy  looked  into  her 
lap. 

uDid  you  see  him  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  heavy  whisper. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  him,"  she  replied,  as  if  inclined  to 
discontinue  the  conversation. 

"  He  wasn't  a  prince,  after  all;  he's  only  a  clothes- 
brush." 

No  response. 

' '  That  must  have  been  a  trade-mark  which  I  saw 
in  his  hat,  and  not  a  coat-of-arms." 

Continued  silence. 

u  I  feel  awful  cheap,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Chester,  will  you  be  still  ?  " 


PEDRO'S  PENCE.  53 


"After  this,  Stacy,  when  we  meet  any  more  of  the 
nobility  we'll  make  them  show  their  credentials." 

In  a  few  minutes  Bemvindo  returned,  followed  by 
a  little  negro  boy  who  was  carrying  the  result  of  his 
errand ;  there  never  was  a  Brazilian  of  so  low  estate 
that  he  could  not  find  some  one  still  lower  to  bear 
his  burdens  for  him.  It  is  the  badge  of  servitude  in 
that  country. 

In  the  boy's  hand  was  a  package  of  cigars.  On 
his  head  was  a  knotted  handkerchief,  contents  un- 
known. These  were  divulged  by  pouring  them  out 
on  the  centre-table.  It  was  the  change  which  he 
had  brought  back.  It  lay  there  in  a  heap  of  mingled 
nickel  and  copper. 

"Now  this  is  emphatically  the  poor  man's  coun- 
try," mused  Kobinson.  "A  man  can  be  rich  here 
on  a  very  small  capital,  and  the  more  he  spends  the 
more  he  has.  A  dozen  cigars  for  a  dollar,  and  fif- 
teen hundred  reis  in  change.  Alas,  that  I  should 
ever  find  myself  smoking  a  two-cent  weed  !" 

He  looked  at  it  a  moment  doubtfully,  cut  off  the 
end,  drew  a  whiff  or  two,  and  resumed  : 

"Still  worse,  that  I  should  find  myself  enjoying 
it.  Oh,  why  am  I  not  poor,  that  I  might  appreciate 
these  blessings  as  I  ought."  He  smoked  a  moment 
in  silence,  and  then  began  again. 

"Now,  this  is  what  the  French  would  call  an  em- 
barrassment of  riches.  I  don't  wonder  that  the 
newsboys  carry  satchels  to  hold  their  receipts.  Here, 
Bemvindo,  fill  your  pockets  with  this  small  coin  — 
no,  take  the  large  pieces,  those  antique  dinner-plates 
that  are  marked  '40  reis.'  " 


54  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Bemvindo  modestly  stepped  forward,  and,  select- 
ing a  few  of  these  coins,  gave  them  to  his  follower 
and  despatched  him  about  his  business. 

"Now,  we'll  make  a  study  of  what  is  left,"  pursued 
Robinson.  "Come,  Colonel,  and  children.  The 
first  thing  to  do  on  arriving  in  a  foreign  land  is  to 
learn  the  use  of  its  money.  That  language  will  take 
you  farther  than  any  other." 

They  gathered  around  him  like  so  many  gamblers 
around  the  stakes,  but  soon  resumed  their  seats. 

Robinson  took  up  a  coin  and  pondered  over  it. 

"  Be  not  deceived,"  he  said.  "  This  huge  disc  of 
nickel,  that  looks  like  a  silver  half-dollar  at  least,  is 
worth  only  ten  cents.  When  we  were  at  Pernam- 
buco  I  saw  a  pine-apple  peddler  give  Chester  one  of 
these  in  change  for  an  English  shilling.  The  boy's 
fingers  closed  over  it  convulsively,  and  there  was  that 
in  his  countenance  which  revealed  his  thoughts  to  me: 
he  thought  the  man  had  made  a  mistake.  Be  not 
deluded,  Chester.  Hucksters  don't  make  mistakes  ; 
that  is,  not  to  their  own  disadvantage.  Bemvindo, 
a  glass  of  water.  This  lecturing  is  dry  work,  and 
I'm  not  used  to  it.  Our  young  friend  Stacy  does 
most  of  it  for  our  party.  This  handsome  coin,  that 
looks  like  a  twenty-dollar  gold  piece,  passes  for  one 
cent  only.  It  is  a  burnished  sham  —  no,  it  is  a  bur- 
nished reality,  and  that  makes  it  a  sham.  Let  us 
see.  It  is  gilded  and  it  is  a  deception,  but  it  is  not 
a  gilded  deception  —  slowly,  now  —  it  is  gilded  hon- 
esty ;  but  how  can  honesty  be  gilded  ?  That's  a  par- 
adox. I  never  was  much  of  a  hand  at  logic.  Bem- 
vindo, water.  Stacy,  your  fan." 


PEDRO'S  PENCE.  55 


The  expositor  fanned  himself  for  a  moment. 

' '  But  to  resume.  It  is  a  beautiful  coin,  and  de- 
serves to  be  held  in  higher  estimation.  It  is  artistic. 
It  is  emblematic.  This  circlet  of  twenty  stars  stands 
for  the  twenty  provinces  of  Brazil.  This  bough  of 
the  coifee-plant  and  that  branch  of  the  cotton-tree 
are  indexes  of  the  national  wealth.  And  yet  this 
work  of  art  and  symbolism  is  good  for  one  cent  only, 
or  the  biggest  orange  in  the  market.  But  why  is  it 
not  as  good  as  a  twenty-dollar  gold  piece  ?  It  hath 
as  comely  a  face  and  is  as  good  to  look  at  as  if  each 
of  its  reis  was  a  dollar.  And  what  is  a  gold  coin  ? 
A  thing  that  each  one  looks  at  as  he  receives  it,  and 
then  passes  it  to  his  neighbor,  and  so  it  goes  around 
the  world." 

"What  delicious  nights  these  are  for  sleeping!" 
said  Stacy,  yawning.  ' '  Pauline  is  curled  up  on  the 
sofa,  and  Chester  has  stopped  talking  ;  a  sure  sign." 

The  lecturer  frowned,  but  would  not  be  abashed. 

4  i  Thirdly  and  lastly,  we  take  up  the  piece  of  forty 
reis  —  price  two  cents.  The  irreverent  and  commer- 
cial Englishman  calls  it  a  4  dump . '  It  is  battered 
and  ancient  as  if  it  had  been  through  a  bric-a-brac 
mill.  It  would  be  worth  its  weight  in  gold  as  a  Tro- 
jan relic.  See  the  green  mould  upon  it !  It  is  gen- 
uine verd-antique.  But  ha!  As  I  dig  I  find  a  legend. 
It  is  the  reward  of  the  patient  explorer.  '  In  hoc 
signo  vincesS  Why,  of  course  you  can.  Congress- 
man and  custom-house  official,  editor  and  policeman, 
all  are  conquered  by  this  token.  But  it's  very  candid 
and  frank  in  them  to  print  it  on  their  money.  Re- 
markably cheap,  too.  The  Lord  be  thanked  that 


56  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

we're  not  so  low  as  that.  In  our  country  we  wouldn't 
think  of  paying  less  than  a  dollar  for  a  vote,  and  so 
we're  pious  in  all  such  small  coins  as  '  In  God  We 
Trust'  nickels.  We  don't  put  much  trust  in  a  little 
sum  like  that,  although  it  must  be  confessed  that  we 
do  repose  some  confidence  in  a  — 

u  Papa,  papa,  listen  to  this  man!  He  is  getting 
absolutely  abusive,"  cried  Stacy. 

"But  what  shall  I  do  with  this  coin,  this  copper 
platter,  that  would  cover  the  eye  of  a  dead  Cyclops  ? 
It  is  heavier  than  a  murderer's  conscience." 

u  Give  —  it  to  me  —  kill  a  dog — with  it,"  half 
muttered  and  half  dreamed  Chester. 

'  Right,  my  boy.    You  may  take  the  pile  on  those 
conditions." 

He  walked  across  the  room  to  the  sofa. 

"Paul,  you  poor  little  kitten,  did  I  talk  you  to 
sleep  ?" 

She  reached  out  and  put  her  hand  in  his. 

"I  was  only  making  believe,  Rob.  I  was  lying 
here  and  feeling  the  ship  rock.  Do  you  know  that 
when  I  shut  my  eyes  I  can  feel  the  ship  swinging, 
and  swinging,  just  as  it  has  every  night  for  the  last 
month  ?  I  wonder  if  I  will  ever  get  over  it.  I  wish 
I  was  a  boy  ;  I  would  be  a  sailor." 

"That's  one  —  my  schemes  —  Polly,"  muttered 
the  somnolent  Chester. 

"  Do  you  know  where  you  are,  Paul  ?  You  are  on 
the  other  side  of  the  world,  now.  You  are  thousands 
of  miles  from  home,  Paul.  And  you  are  such  a  little 
girl,  aren't  you  afraid  ?  " 

She  pressed  his  hand  and  said,  u!N~o." 


PEDRO'S  PENCE.  57 

' c  Do  you  want  to  know  what  I  see  when  I  shut  my 
eyes,  Paul  ?  I  see  a  beautiful  lady  who  sits  by  the 
south  window  in  the  afternoon,  and  has  gifts  and 
money  and  smiles  for  the  poor  girls  who  sell  matches 
and  flowers  in  the  streets  of  the  city  ;  and  when  they 
thank  her,  she  says,  '  It  was  Pauline  that  did  it ; 
thank  Pauline.'  " 

"That's  mamma,"  lisped  the  child,  delightedly. 

"  And  now,  at  this  moment,  in  the  evening,  I  see 
her  in  the  lonesome  parlor.  She  lays  her  book  down 
and  takes  up  the  picture  of  a  little  girl  with  floating 
hair  and  dainty  boots,  and  she  kisses  it  and  whispers 
a  prayer  over  it,  and  touches  her  hand  to  it  as  if  she 
would  brush  the  curls  back  from  the  forehead.'' 

"  What  ails  him  to-night?"  thought  Stacy,  sympa- 
thetically. "He  is  in  one  of  his  moods  again.  I 
wish  he  would  talk  that  way  to  me." 


VI. 
SLIPPEE  AND  SANDAL. 

What  energy  can  be  expected  from  a  people  with  no  heels  to 
their  shoes?  —  LORD  PALMERSTON. 


clack!  Clack,  clack!"  clattered  the 
footsteps  of  some  one  in  haste,  in  the  street 
without.  It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  day  following 
the  arrival  of  our  party. 

"Dinna  ye  hear  the  brogan  ?  "  asked  Chester. 

"  No  ;  it's  a  tamanco,"  replied  the  Naturalist. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  inquired  Stacy. 

"A  tamanco  is  a  sole  of  wood  with  a  little  pocket 
of  leather  into  which  the  wearer  thrusts  his  toes,  and, 
by  some  process  best  known  to  himself,  manages  to 
keep  his  shoes  on  through  all  the  emergencies  of 
street  travel,  even  if  a  policeman  is  after  him.  '  ' 

"Come  and  see  him,"  called  Robinson,  who  was 
standing  by  the  window.  "It's  the  best  ventilated 
shoe  ever  I  saw.  It  seems  merely  to  hang  on  one 
toe,  and  the  sole  gapes  away  from  the  man's  heel  like 
an  alligator's  mouth  at  every  step.  It  seems  to  me 
that  this  is  conspicuously  a  slipshod  nation." 

"It  is.  This  people  appear  to  have  the  greatest 
possible  repugnance  for  anything  binding  about  their 
heels  or  instep,  and  when  a  man  buys  a  new  pair  of 
slippers  his  first  object  is  to  break  the  counters  down 
out  of  the  way,  or,  failing  in  that,  to  cut  them  out 
altogether.  It  is  very  much  easier  to  step  into  a 

58 


SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL.  59 

pair  of  slippers  than  to  put  them  on,  and  the  amount 
of  labor  that  is  annually  saved  in  this  manner  in 
Brazil  would  be  most  gratifying  to  a  political  econo- 
mist, however  much  it  might  displease  a  stickler  for 
beauty  and  order  like  Ruskin.  There's  a  little 
moleque  who  comes  around  to  me  with  fruit  and  mes- 
sages sometimes,  and  as  he  steps  upon  the  threshold 
he  quietly  uncurls  his  toe,  or  in  some  other  occult 
manner  detaches  himself  from  his  tamancos,  leaving 
them  upon  the  door-sill  while  he  patters  through  the 
house  barefooted,  saving  a  wonderful  amount  of  clat- 
ter and  disturbance.  Leaving  me,  he  thrusts  his  toe 
into  the  sheath,  and  is  shod  again.  It  is  an  almost 
instantaneous  process." 

uBut,"  said  Robinson,  "Palmerston  says  that  a 
nation  without  heels  to  their  shoes  must  be  devoid  of 
energy.  These  people  of  the  street  do  not  seem  to 
lack  energy  of  character. " 

"That  will  hardly  prove  true  in  all  cases.  For  in- 
stance, you  may  go  out  upon  the  pave  and  the  first 
laboring  man  or  woman  that  you  meet  will  probably 
have  on  slippers  to  which  there  will  be  no  heels,  and, 
what  is  worse,  not  even  the  place  where  the  heel 
ought  to  be.  This  is  because  he  or  she  has  travelled 
so  energetically  that  all  that  portion  of  slipper  is 
worn  away,  leaving  only  a  watch-fob  of  remnant, 
which  for  decency's  sake  they  wear  over  the  toe.  Or 
you  may  see  a  person  wearing  sandals,  and  the  san- 
dal-shod nations  have  never  been  reproached  for 
want  of  energy;  the  Hebrews  and  Greeks  wore  san- 
dals. Mind,  I  am  not  advocating  slipshod  habits, 
but  am  simply  deprecating  the  practice  of  piling  up 


60  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


leather  under  the  heel,  a  practice  which  the  medical 
men  heartily  condemn,  and  which  Lord  Palmerston 
would  never  have  favored  if  he  had  given  it  second 
thought." 

uBut  I  say,"  continued  Robinson,  "if  Lord  Pal- 
merston is  right,  what  an  amount  of  energy  the  pos- 
sessor of  such  a  boot  must  have  !  '  How  beautiful 
are  thy  feet  with  shoes,  O  prince's  daughter!' ' 

So  saying,  he  touched  with  his  cane  the  tapering 
heel  which  protruded  from  Stacy's  dress. 

"There's  no  discount  on  Stacy's  energy,"  said 
Chester.  "  She  deserves  to  walk  on  stilts.  She's 
the  moral  force  of  this  crowd,  I  tell  you.  I  wouldn't 
be  the  good  boy  that  I  am  if  it  wasn't  for  her.  When 
she  says  to  me  '  Ches-fe/1/  '  I  begin  a  new  life  every 
time." 

"I  believe  that  a  person's  shoes  are  an  evidence  of 
character,5'  said  Stacy,  positively,  "  though  whether 
Palmerston  is  right  or  not,  it  is  not  for  me  to  pre- 
sume to  say.  I  never  yet  saw  a  shoe  that  was  not 
full  of  expression,  that  is,  if  it  had  been  worn  any 
length  of  time.  A  subtle  villain's  boot  is  long  and 
taper-pointed.  An  honest,  generous,  fatherly  man's 
shoe  is  thick-soled  and  broad  about  the  toes.  A  fop's 
gaiters  are  high-heeled  and  are  beginning  to  run 
over  on  one  side.  And  as  for  the  difference  between 
a  lady-like  and  a  slatternly  shoe,  everybody  knows 
that." 

"You  have  forgotten  to  classify  the  editor's  boot," 
said  Robinson.  "It  is  heavy  about  the  toes,  and 
built  for  execution." 

At  this  point  the  Naturalist  looked  at  his  watch 


SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL.  61 

and  then  looked  at  the  Colonel.  The  Colonel  there- 
upon consulted  his  watch,  and  said  : 

"  Chester,  you  are  getting  to  be  such  a  little  man 
that  I  will  let  you  take  your  sisters  in  to  dinner  to- 
day. "We  shall  probably  dine  in  the  city." 

' i  Where  are  you  going,  papa  ? ' '  asked  Stacy. 

"We  have  a  few  little  affairs  to  attend  to  down 
town,  and  Mr.  Kingston  has  kindly  consented  to  ac- 
company us." 

"Will  you  be  home  to  breakfast,  papa? "  inquired 
Chester,  with  an  attempt  at  sarcasm. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  shall  probably  return  in  time  to  send 
you  to  bed  at  a  very  early  hour,  if  the  girls  do  not 
report  favorably  upon  your  conduct." 

When  our  gentleman  friends,  newly  arrived  in  a 
strange  city,  have  some  little  affairs  to  attend  to 
down-town,  it  is  well  to  keep  an  eye  upon  them;  not 
that  there  is  always  danger  of  their  disgracing  them- 
selves in  any  way,  but  because  there  is  always  a 
probability  that  they  will  see  some  phases  of  life  to 
which,  in  the  presence  of  their  lady  companions, 
they  must  be  blind. 

For  instance,  the  Colonel  and  Robinson  were  free 
to  give  their  plain-spoken  opinion  upon  the  crippled 
and  mangy  dogs  which  appropriated  the  sidewalks  to 
themselves;  to  express  their  contempt  for  the  civili- 
zation which  permitted  the  sluggish  streams  of  filth 
about  the  fronts  of  the  churches  and  other  public 
buildings ;  to  observe  the  decollete  condition  of  the 
stalwart  Mina  negresses,each  one  a  model  of  strength 
and  symmetry;  to  be  duly  shocked  by  the  spectacle 
of  the  naked  child  which  was  playing  in  the  door  of 


62  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

the  butcher's  shop;  and  to  exclaim  against  the  smells 
—  the  awful  smells  —  which  are  the  traveller's  first 
and  last  impression  of  Rio,  and  which,  when  the 
stranger  encounters  them  suddenly,  make  his  brain 
giddy  and  his  heart  and  stomach  sick  within  him. 

Concerning  the  dogs,  they  all  agreed  that,  with 
Constantinople  yet  to  hear  from,  there  are  more 
worthless  dogs  to  the  square  acre  in  Rio  de  Janeiro 
than  anywhere  else  in  the  world ; — Santa  Fe,  ISTew 
Mexico,  not  excepted. 

Concerning  the  child,  in  purls  naturalibus,  Robin- 
son said : 

"Well,  Cupids  are  common  enough  in  real  life,  as 
well  as  in  statuary  and  paintings,  and  are  considered 
nothing  improper,  but  I'll  be  blessed  if  this  isn't  the 
first  time  that  ever  I  saw  Psyche  on  exhibition;  with 
a  remarkably  dirty  face,  too.  This  nation  must  be 
more  classical  in  its  tastes  than  ours,  or  an  indignant 
community  would  rise  up  and  call  for  screens. ' ' 

On  the  vile  street  odors  the  Colonel  also  made  a 
remark,  but  it  will  not  be  repeated  here. 

Apropos  to  this  subject, the  Naturalist  remembered 
the  case  of  the  young  Englishman,  who,  apparently 
in  good  health,  was  walking  the  streets  of  Rio  in  the 
summer  season.  Incautiously  he  breathed  a  mouth- 
ful of  the  pestiferous  atmosphere  which  hangs  about 
certain  localities.  He  became  deathly  sick  upon  the 
spot,  was  carried  home,  and  died  of  the  yellow  fever. 

"Why  do  the  people  permit  these  offences  to  re- 
main ?"  asked  Robinson. 

"Because  their  fathers  did,  I  presume.  It  is  cer- 
tainly not  from  want  of  a  better  example,  because  they 


SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL.  63 

are  familiar  with  the  streets  of  Paris,  one  of  the  tidi- 
est cities  in  the  world.  The  aspirations  of  all  Bra- 
zilians tend  to  Paris  as  the  sparks  fly  upward,  and 
when  a  young  man  gets  a  conto  of  reis  together  he 
goes  there  to  study  or  to  lark.  While  they  ridicule 
the  commercial  Englishman,  they  admire  and  imitate 
the  French,  in  all  except  this  matter  of  civic  econ- 
omy, and,  returning  from  airy  Paris,  the  passive 
Brazilian  tolerates  what  you  now  see. ' ' 

"What  we  now  see?  That  is  a  dead  dog,"  said 
Robinson. 

They  came  at  last  to  an  immense  building,  rising 
abruptly  from  the  sidewalk.  It  was  as  plain  and  un- 
artistic  as  a  factory,  and  as  dingy  as  time  could 
make  it. 

"  It  looks  like  a  prison,"  said  Kobinson.  "  What 
is  it?" 

"The  Ajuda  Convent." 

Robinson  was  disappointed  in  spite  of  himself. 

"That  a  convent!  Is  that  what  Byron  sentimen- 
talized about  ?  He  was  a  fool.  Any  nuns  inside  of 
those  walls  ? " 

' '  Three  old  women,  and  they  are  dying  oif  rap- 
idly." 

"  Then  I  don't  see  the  use  of  those  gratings  before 
the  windows.  This  institution  resembles  Jim  Fisk's 
grave-yard  —  the  inmates  are  not  likely  to  break  out, 
and  the  outsiders  are  not  anxious  to  get  in." 

"It  has  seen  its  best  days  of  romance  and  pros- 
perity," continued  the  Naturalist,  "and  in  all  prob- 
ability the  government  will  soon  appropriate  it  for 
some  beneficent  use ;  turn  it  into  a  hall  of  science, 


64:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO 

perhaps.  In  no  part  of  the  world  is  the  conflict  be- 
tween science  and  religion,  or  superstition,  more 
marked  than  here,  and  science  is  capturing  one  after 
another  of  these  ancient  strongholds  of  the  church. 
Over  there,  on  the  hill  at  our  right,  is  the  Astronom- 
ical Observatory,  installed  in  an  old  Jesuit  College. 
In  a  few  moments  I  will  show  you  the  Convent  of 
Santo  Antonio,  a  grand  pile  of  masonry,  which, 
from  the  eminence  of  its  site,  overlooks  the  city. 
There  it  stands,  with  its  cells  and  its  crypts,  its  paint- 
ings and  statues,  gloomy  in  its  odor  of  sanctity  and 
sack-cloth.  This  old  monkery  has  just  narrowly  es- 
caped being  assigned  to  Professor  Hartt  as  quarters 
for  his  Geological  Commission;  but  the  dens  of  the 
narrow-minded  frades  were  too  small  and  dark  for 
the  laboratories  and  museums  of  a  liberal  science. 
Think  of  it !  after  Peter  and  Pius,  Darwin  and  his 
disciples.  It  is  enough  to  make  the  bones  of  Tor- 
quemada  rustle  in  the  grave." 

Their  route  had  lain  through  narrow  streets,  be- 
tween cheap  eating-houses,  hucksters'  stalls,  and 
small  shops,  with  here  and  there  a  poor  dwelling- 
house  between.  The  windows  of  the  latter  opened 
directly  upon  the  pavement,  with  never  an  inch  of 
grass-plot  or  other  border  of  mitigation  to  isolate 
house  from  street.  From  these  windows,  brushed 
by  the  passers-by,  the  inmates  leaned  for  a  breath  of 
the  outside  air,  which  was  but  little  fresher  than  the 
stifling  atmosphere  within.  Women  with  sour  faces 
and  frowsy  heads  rested  their  elbows  upon  the  win- 
dow-sills and  stared  at  our  travellers,  oifering  them, 
however,  no  other  molestation  than  this;  creatures  so 


SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL.  65 

slovenly  as  these  could  not  be  otherwise  than  virtu- 
ous, and  from  these  there  was  nothing  to  fear. 

But  finally  they  came  to  a  quarter  of  the  city  where 
it  became  necessary  for  them  to  take  the  middle  of 
the  street,  to  save  themselves  from  annoyance. 
There,  in  those  same  low  windows,  lounged  the  dis- 
solute women  of  France  and  Hungary,  the  Adriatic 
and  the  Rhine,  smoking  their  cigarettes,  advertising 
themselves  and  their  profession  as  far  as  art  and  the 
police  would  allow  them,  literally  grasping  for  the 
thoughtless  wayfarer  who  might  stray  within  reach. 
They  were  dressed  not  much,  but  richly.  Upon 
their  faces  were  drifts  of  powder  ;  strings  of  pearls 
were  coiled  about  their  heads  ;  and  in  their  looks  and 
actions,  belied  by  the  haggard  depths  of  their  eyes, 
was  that  assumed  gayety  which  is  given  to  those  who 
have  sold  themselves  to  the  devil. 

This  was  one  of  the  streets  the  most  travelled  and 
the  most  public  of  the  city;  and  yet,  in  the  short  dis- 
tance of  one  block,  the  Colonel,  who  was  accumulat- 
ing statistics,  counted  seventeen  of  these  creatures. 

"Do  you  wonder  now  that  so  many  young  men 
from  England  and  America  go  to  the  bad  as  soon  as 
they  get  here  ?  "  asked  the  Naturalist.  "  These  are 
a  poor  substitute  for  their  mothers  and  sisters  and 
sweethearts  at  home." 

In  the  last  window  of  this  row  there  were  three 
other  girls,  undoubtedly  sisters,  with  eyes  and  hair 
intensely  black,  and  the  latter  growing  in  that  lux- 
uriance which  is  the  characteristic  glory  of  the  women 
of  Brazil. 

"Eighteen — nineteen — twenty  "  said  Robinson. 
5 


66  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"Hold  on!"  cried  the  Naturalist.  "However 
gratifying  it  would  be  to  make  out  the  even  twenty 
on  this  block,  still  it  would  be  unjust  to  count  them 
in  this  list.  They  are  Brazilian." 

This  was  not  the  only  rebuke  that  Eobinson  re- 
ceived. The  young  women  themselves,  conscious 
of  an  insinuation  in  his  looks,  refuted  it  with  a  glance 
from  their  eyes,  and,  like  vestal  Tuccias  under  accusa- 
tion, they  reined  up  their  haughty  heads  and  queened 
it  over  him  with  a  dignity  and  scorn  that  quite 
crushed  him.  this  was  probably  not  the  first  time 
that  they  had  been  insulted  by  a  look.  Their  place 
of  residence  was  an  undesirable  one,  to  which  they 
were  condemned  by  poverty  ;  yet,  poor  as  they  were, 
they  felt  themselves  infinitely  richer  than  their  neigh- 
bors with  the  pearl  necklaces. 

"How  should  I  know  it?"  said  Eobinson,  half 
apologetically.  "They  have  no  business  to  live 
here,  then." 

"  They  are  Brazilian,"  replied  the  Naturalist,  "and 
it  is  very  seldom  that  a  Brazilian  woman  goes  to  join 
the  roda  corteza.  Why  it  is,  I  do  not  know.  The 
men  are  certainly  not  models  of  moral  character." 

"Perhaps  it  is  their  education,  and  the  care  with 
which  they  are  guarded;  the  influence  of  tradition 
and  duennas,  perhaps,"  suggested  Robinson. 

"  But  the  French  girls  are  similarly  educated  and 
confined,  without  producing  the  same  effect,  by  any 
means.  And  now,  while  I  remember  it,  when  I  was 
in  Virginia  City  I  learned  the  striking  fact  that  a 
large  number  of  the  public  women  of  that  enterpris- 
ing town  —  and  there  are  thousands  of  them  —  began 


SLIPPER   AND  SANDAL.  67 

their  disreputable  career  by  escaping  from  a  convent- 
school.  No,  it  must  be  in  the  nature  of  the  people. 
"Women,  like  wines,  differ  in  different  countries.  It 
all  seems  to  depend  upon  some  peculiar  qualities  of 
the  soil  and  the  sun.  Champagne  is  delicious,  spark- 
ling, and  high-pressure,  and  seems  to  feel  that  its 
mission  in  this  world  is  to  be  sipped  and  to  intoxicate 
men;  port  has  a  richer  and  darker  beauty,  and  a 
more  quiet,  sluggish,  and  almost  stupid  nature. 
Loosen  the  cork  of  the  champagne  bottle,  and  it  over- 
flows of  its  own  accord;  but  port  has  to  be  poured 
out.  And  this  difference  that  exists  betwen  the 
wines  of  the  Marne  and  the  Douro  is  also  the  differ- 
ence between  the  daughters  of  France  and  those  of 
Portugal,  or  its  colony,  Brazil." 

1 '  I  think  I  catch  your  idea, ' '  said  Robinson .  ' '  The 
French  girl,  in  her  school-days  and  maidenhood, 
lives  the  quiet  life  of  champagne  in  a  bottle.  Some- 
times the  wine  breaks  the  bottle ;  that  is  when  the 
girl  throws  off  restraint  and  elopes  with  the  poor  but 
talented  artist  around  the  corner.  Sometimes  the 
bottle  is  laid  away  upon  the  shelf  and  forgotten  for 
years  and  years,  and  then  when  they  come  to  find  it 
the  wine  is  flat,  tasteless,  and  generally  worn  out; 
the  girl  has  become  an  old  maid." 

"Exactly.  But  the  Brazilian,  girl  or  woman,  is 
always  the  same.  As  soon  as  she  is  old  enough  to 
know  anything,  she  seems  to  imbibe  the  idea  that  to 
look  at  a  man  is,  if  not  an  actual  sin,  at  least  a  very 
scandalous  proceeding.  She  is  not  gay,  vivacious, 
and  interested  in  the  world,  but,  as  she  walks,  with 
her  parents  or  guardian  close  behind,  she  keeps  her 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


eyes  constantly  and  demurely  on  the  ground  fifteen 
paces  to  the  front,  like  a  soldier  or  a  nun." 

' '  That  is  certainly  not  the  way  they  do  in  Amer- 
ica and  England,"  said  Robinson.  "Take  one  of 
those  girls  at  ten  or  twelve  or  fourteen,  and  place 
her  by  the  side  of  a  young  man  of  twenty  or  thirty, 
and  the  way  that  she  stares  at  him  would  be  imperti- 
nent if  it  were  not  so  naive.  She  looks  him  over 
from  his  buttons  to  his  boots,  takes  a  mental  inven- 
tory of  him,  and  adds  him  up  and  sets  him  down  for 
just  about  what  he  is  worth,  and,  if  she  has  a  big 
sister,  she  makes  up  her  mind  as  to  how  she  would 
like  him  for  a  brother-in-law.  If  you  return  her 
curious  stare,  she  is  not  the  slightest  bit  abashed,  but 
welcomes  the  opportunity  to  examine  the  color  of 
your  eyes.  There  is  something  irresistibly  charm- 
ing to  me  in  the  cool  impudence  or  innocence  —  call 
it  what  you  will  —  of  Young  America's  sister  when 
she  is  about  ten  or  twelve  or  fourteen  years  old. 
At  fifteen,  when  the  rosebud  begins  to  bloom,  she 
commences  to  grow  formal,  artificial,  and  fraudulent, 
saying  No  when  she  means  Yes  ;  and  the  charm  is 
gone." 

"It  is  very  different  here,"  said  the  Naturalist. 
"  Nature  did  not  give  the  Brazileira  long  and  heavy 
eyelashes  for  nothing.  It  is  but  recently  that  she 
has  laid  aside  her  veil  as  an  article  of  public  costume, 
and  now  her  eyelashes  are  taxed  to  their  utmost  to 
take  its  place." 

"And,"  continued  Robinson,  "if  a  fellow  looks 
at  her,  as  he  would  look  at  a  flower,  or  a  picture,  or 
anything  else  beautiful,  I  suppose  the  old  folks  ap- 


SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL. 


proach  him  and  ask  him  his  intentions.  I  don't  like 
that.  It  is  equal  to  entering  a  dollar-store  and  hav- 
ing the  homeliest  girl' sidle  up  to  you  and  simper, 
c  What  do  you  wish  to  buy,  sir  V  As  I  like  to  roam 
at  will  through  the  enchantments  of  the  dollar-store, 
without  interruption  or  importunity,  looking  into  this 
show-case  and  longing  for  that  chromo,  so  I  like  to 
wander  undisturbed  down  through  the  great  assem- 
bly of  the  marriageable  women  of  this  world,  saying 
a  word  here  and  dancing  a  waltz  there,  without  hav- 
ing the  invitation  'the  parson  or  pistols,'  extended 
to  me.  In  this  manner  alone  a  man  can  hope  to  find 
his  affinity,  or,  failing  in  that,  have  at  least  the  satis- 
faction of  a  slight  acquaintance  with  his  future  wife." 

This  discussion  did  not  interest  the  Colonel  as 
much  as  it  would  have  done  twenty  years  ago.  He 
found  it  somewhat  dry  and  himself  in  a  similar  con- 
dition. 

"  Here  is  a  garden  with  a  band  of  music,  and  tables 
and  benches  under  the  palm  trees.  I  have  often  re- 
marked that  where  these  things  are  gathered  together 
there  is  always  something  more  to  be  had.  Will. you 
have  something?"  he  asked. 

"National  beer,"  said  the  Naturalist  to  the  boy 
who  came  to  them. 

"National  beer?"  repeated  the  Colonel.  "I'm 
glad  you  thought  of  it.  I  like  to  learn  all  of  the  cus- 
toms and  taste  all  of  the  products  of  a  strange  land. 
That's  what  I  call  education." 

"The  national  beer  of  Brazil  ought  to  be  very 
good,"  said  Robinson.  "It  is  a  country  to  which 
nature  has  been  most  generous  in  the  gift  of  her 


70  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

richest  and  sweetest  juices,  in  the  sugar-cane,  the 
orange,  and  the  cocoa-nut,  and  for  them  to  make  an 
inferior  beer  would  be  to  prove  that  civilization  can- 
not offer  the  advantages  of  barbarism." 

44  If  I  know  anything  about  the  fitness  of  things," 
said  the  Colonel,  "I  will  prophesy  that  this  Brazil- 
ian beer  will  prove  to  be  brown,  rich,  and  creamy,  to 
be  taken  slowly,  to  the  sound  of  distant  music." 

4 'And  I,"  said  Robinson,  "think  that  an  amber, 
foamy,  and  effervescent  drink,  like  the  kuhle  blonde 
of  Berlin,  would  please  the  tropical  nature.  You 
know  a  dark  people  admire  the  blonde." 

So  saying,  Robinson  took  up  his  glass,  tasted  the 
contents,  and  set  it  down  silently.  The  Colonel, 
also,  sipped  a  little,  and  made  a  wry  face. 

"It  is  neither  one  nor  the  other,"  said  he.  "It 
is  a  thin  and  sloppy  stuff." 

"What  is  it  made  of,  can  you  tell?"  asked  Rob- 
inson. 

"  I  do  not  know;  but,  whatever  it  is  made  of,  it  is 
very  much  diluted  afterwards.  This  accounts  for  the 
vast  amount  of  weak  poetry  which  is  produced  by 
this  people,  and  for  the  absence  of  great  philosophers 
and  deep  thinkers  among  them.  We  cannot  have 
philosophy  without  good  beer.  Beer  promotes  med- 
itation, and  meditation  ripens  into  philosophy." 

"Are  you  not  doing  the  pipe  injustice?"  asked 
Robinson. 

"The  pipe  also.  I  should  have  included  the  pipe. 
Look  at  Germany!  Pipes  and  beer  and  philosophy. 
A  people  that  smoke  cigarettes  are  sure  to  be  effem- 
inate, dainty,  and  weakly  ;  but  where  the  pipe  is  the 


SLIPPER  AND  SANDAL.  71 

national   weapon  the  men   are  always   sturdy   and 
strong." 

UI  have  noticed  this  fact,  also,"  said  the  Natur- 
alist, ' '  but  my  conclusions  as  to  cause  and  effect  come 
out  differently  from  yours." 

"  Why,  what  is  the  result  of  your  studies?" 
"  First,  the  truth  that  in  a  nation  of  pipe-smokers 
the  men  are  sturdy  and  strong  ;  second,  the  inference 
that  it  is  only  the  man  of  a  strong  constitution  that 
can  smoke  a  pipe  and  live." 


YIL 
BOHEMIA. 

Les  Bohemiens  sont  fort  gentils ;  c'est  une  race  aimable  et  vivace, 
qui  se  trouve  la  meme,  relativement,  a  tous  les  echelons  de  la 
socie*te. —  GEORGE  SAND. 

E] AYING  the  beer  garden,  it  occurred  to  the  Colo- 
nel that  one  of  the  little  affairs  deserving  their 
attention  was  the  subject  of  dinner. 

"I  will  take  you  to  a  place  where  you  may  see 
something  of  Brazilian  Bohemia  as  you  dine,"  said 
the  Naturalist. 

He  led  them  to  '  The  Princes,'  down  on  the  c  Black 
Horse  Square,'  as  the  English  call  it. 

"This  is  not  a  bad  place;  a  very  pretty  place, "  re- 
marked the  Colonel,  looking  around  upon  the  palms 
growing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  on  the  clus- 
ters and  piles  of  tropical  fruit  that  was  artistically 
arranged  there. 

"A  very  good  place,  indeed,"  he  continued  ap- 
provingly, as  he  read  the  list.  '  'A  dozen  entrees,  and 
soup  and  fish  in  proportion.  I  am  almost  sorry  that 
I  did  not  bring  my  family  here." 

"No:  it  is  not  a  very  good  family  hotel,"  replied 
the  Naturalist.  "That  is,  for  a  man  who  has  one 
family  already." 

It  was  the  popular  dinner  hour,  just  after  sun- 
down, and  the  rooms  were  well  filled.  In  the  main 

72 


BOHEMIA, 


saloon,  where  they  sat,  there  were  gentlemen  alone, 
but  in  an  adjacent  and  more  retired  recess  numerous 
ladies  were  at  tables. 

"Ah,"  said  the  Colonel,  uthe  women  of  this 
country  are  almost  Persian  in  their  seclusion  from 
the  eyes  of  men.  I  think  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
being  entirely  too  modest  and  retiring." 

The  evening  hour  was  deliciously  cool.  The  breeze 
came  in  through  the  open  window,  fresh  from  the 
verdure  in  the  park  across  the  street.  In  the  west, 
atop  of  the  mountains,  a  patch  of  sky,  pearl-above- 
sunset,  was  visible.  All  was  beauty,  in-doors  and 
out. 

Three  children,  a  girl  and  two  boys,  straggled 
along  up  the  street,  carrying  violins  and  a  harp.  The 
tallest  of  the  three  peeped  over  the  window-sill  to 
see  if  there  was  a  paying  house,  and  chancing  to 
catch  the  Colonel's  benevolent  eye,  they  began  their 
concert  immediately.  First  they  played  slow  and 
dreamy  waltzes,  and  it  was  interesting  to  note  the 
effect  of  this  music  upon  the  gentlemen  at  dinner. 
As  the  Naturalist  has  said,  the  Brazilians  are  a  nerv- 
ous people,  and  there  were  few  in  the  present  gath- 
ering whose  toes  were  not  tapping  the  floor,  whose 
legs  were  not  vibrating  with  a  steady  beat,  or  whose 
nether  extremities  were  not  engaged  in  some  other 
unnecessary  by-play.  These  strains  fell  upon  them 
like  a  sedative,  and  put  their  nerves  to  sleep.  They 
plied  the  knife  and  fork  less  vigorously,  ate  less  rap- 
idly, and  with  fairer  prospects  for  digestion. 

u  There  is  nothing  like  slow  music  for  dinners  and 
funerals,"  remarked  Robinson. 


74  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Then  the  stunted  little  Mignon  under  the  window 
piped  her  clear,  sad  voice  to  an  Italian  ballad,  while 
the  boys,  listlessly  and  with  thoughts  far  away, 
harped  and  fiddled  an  accompaniment.  After  this 
the  collection  was  taken.  It  was  a  bounteous  one, 
every  person  contributing.  The  Brazilians  are  char- 
itable, and  it  is  as  hard  for  them  to  refrain  from  drop- 
ping a  coin  into  an  upturned  hand  or  hat  as  it  is 
for  the  Irishman  to  see  a  head  in  a  convenient  posi- 
tion without  hitting  it.  Even  the  wayside  contribu- 
tion boxes,  those  "poor,  poor,  dumb  mouths,"  re- 
ceive an  occasional  obolus  of  alms  in  Brazil,  a  thing 
unheard  of  in  other  countries. 

"  Gentlemen,  this  is  the  bes*  music  in  the  world," 
said  the  Colonel.  ' '  I  am  free  to  admit  that  such  is 
my  opinion,  and  if  you  had  the  courage  to  say  so 
you  would  make  the  same  confession.  Give  me  two 
violins  and  a  harp,  three  gypsy  Italians  to  play  them, 
a  pleasant  evening  like  this,  a  cigar  to  smoke,  and 
my  little  girl  on  my  knee,  and  I  want  nothing  more. 
I  know  I  used  to  despise  simple  music  when  I  was 
of  your  age,  and  dote  upon  the  tawdry  opera  ;  but  I 
am  getting  over  that  now;  I  suppose  I  am  getting 
foolish  as  I  grow  old." 

"It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk  that  way,"  re- 
plied Robinson,  "but  for  us  young  fellows,  who 
have  our  future  yet  before  us  and  our  wives  yet  to 
gain,  it  will  never  do  to  confess  that  we  are  not  pas- 
sionately fond  of  the  delirium  of  Wagner  and  the 
hysterics  of  Chopin." 

"  When  I  was  a  young  buck,"  added  the  Colonel, 
continuing  his  reminiscences,  "I  had  my  opera-box 


BOHEMIA.  75 


with  the  best  of  them,  and  few  were  the  seasons 
when  I  wasn't  acquainted  with  the  first  tenor  and  in 
love  with  the  leading  lady.  In  those  days  I  used  to 
play  the  connoisseur,  and  sport  my  Italian,  and  turn 
up  my  nose  at  the  melody  of  an  Irish  ballad  or  a 
plantation  song  ;  but  it  don't  last,  it  don't  last.  Here, 
Mignon,  my  dear,  it's  your  benefit  night,"  and  he 
tossed  her  a  bank  note  through  the  open  window. 

They  had  finished  their  fish,  of  which  they  had 
chosen  garoupa  because  it  was  Brazilian,  and  the  ad- 
venturous spirit  of  the  traveller  was  upon  them  to- 
night. 

' '  How  is  this  ?"  exclaimed  Robinson  ' '  Our  guide- 
book says  the  garoupa  is  a  fine  fish,  and  yet  a  more 
coarse-grained  tissue  than  this  I  never  ate.  I  cannot 
understand  it." 

uThat  reminds  me  of  P'line's  conundrum,"  an- 
swered the  Colonel.  "'Why  don't  travellers  tell 
the  truth  ?'  Your  guide-book  is  made  up  out  of  in- 
formation furnished  by  travellers." 

"Why  don't  travellers  tell  the  truth?"  repeated 
the  Naturalist.  "It  spoils  the  rhetoric,  that's  why." 

"It  is  so  much  more  natural  to  lie,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

'•  Truth  is  too  ordinary;  it  doesn't  read  well,"  was 
Robinson's  answer. 

"There's  no  money  in  it,"  continued  the  Colonel. 

They  were  astonished  at  their  own  readiness  in 
meeting  a  question  which,  but  the  other  day,  had 
seemed  unanswerable. 

"  But,"  continued  the  Naturalist,  "  in  the  case  of 
this  country,  one  great  reason  for  not  telling  the 


76  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

truth,  and  especially  the  whole  truth,  is  the  fear  of 
giving  offence  to  the  inhabitants.  The  Brazilians 
are  very  sensitive  to  the  opinions  of  the  outside 
world,  and  very  desirous  of  gaining  the  respect  of  the 
other  nations  of  the  earth.  Therefore,  if  a  traveller 
goes  back  home  from  here  and  publishes  a  diagnosis 
of  the  various  diseases,  physical,  social  and  political, 
which  afflict  this  empire,  it  is  an  injury  which  this 
people  does  not  readily  forgive.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  he  gushes  over  the  fruits,  landscapes,  and  butter- 
flies, to  the  exclusion  of  the  cockroaches,  green 
mould,  and  elephantiasis  — 

"They  make  him  a  Knight  of  the  Southern  Cross, 
don't  they?"  interrupted  Robinson. 

"Perhaps.  But  I  have  in  mind  now  a  recent  di- 
rector of  the  Astronomical  Observatory,  a  French- 
man, who  came  over  here  on  a  roving  mission  many 
years  ago.  He  returned  to  France,  wrote  a  so-called 
scientific  book  on  this  country,  called  it  '  The  Celes- 
tial Space,'  or  some  such  magniloquent  title,  and  in 
the  chapter  upon  comets,  and  elsewhere,  he  found  his 
opportunity  to  lavish  the  most  fulsome  and  obvious 
flattery  upon  the  Brazilian  people.  He  is  now  Direc- 
tor of  the  Observatory,  as  I  have  said.  Farther 
comment  on  his  case  is  unnecessary. 

"Take  now,  on  the  other  hand,  the  book  written 
by  Mrs.  Agassiz,  a  lady  whom  no  one  can  suspect  of 
partiality  or  intentional  injustice  in  her  conclusions; 
yet  for  the  few  bitter  but  wholesome  truths  which  she 
tells  the  world  about  them,  the  Brazilians  are  almost 
inclined  to  forget  the  many  pleasant  and  compli- 
mentary things  that  she  says.  "Why,  I  wonder  what 


BOHEMIA.  77 


they  would  do  with  a  Dickens,  a  Sala,  or  an  Offen- 
bach?" 

"How  about  Kidder  and  Fletcher?"  asked  Kob- 
inson. 

"Their  book  is  remarkable  for  its  completeness 
and  the  amount  of  information  that  it  contains.  For 
the  ordinary  traveller,  it  is  the  most  useful  work  on 
Brazil  that  has  ever  been  published.  Their  oppor- 
tunities for  gathering  material  were  unrivalled,  since, 
as  missionaries,  they  were  constantly  travelling  and 
in  communication  with  the  inhabitants.  But  still, 
theirs  are  not  the  decisions  of  the  unbiassed  judge, 
free  from  all  mundane  motives,  as  the  verdict  of  the 
honest  historian  should  be,  but  are  rather  the  plea 
of  the  counsel  on  the  Brazilian  side.  Not  that  any 
of  their  statements  are  false;  far  be  it  from  me  to 
say  that  a  missionary  would  falsify :  but  then,  by  the 
way,  neither  does  the  advocate  to  whom  we  have 
compared  the  missionary;  he  simply  presents  the 
truths  favorable  to  his  side  of  the  case.  In  the  same 
manner,  in  their  information  upon  health,  tempera- 
ture, and  many  other  topics,  it  is  to  be  feared  that 
Kidder  and  Fletcher  have  culled  their  statistics. 

"How  could  it  be  otherwise?  For  many  years 
they  had  accepted  the  generous  hospitality  of  Brazil, 
and  were  probably  ;  laying  pipes  ' —  as  the  vulgar 
say — for  a  continuation  of  that  amenity  for  other 
years  to  come.  If  they  had  indulged  in  unpalatable 
strictures  in  their  first  edition,  they  would  have  closed 
against  themselves  the  hearts  of  the  people  and  the 
gates  of  the  fazendas,  and  consequently  all  of  those 
sources  of  supply  from  which  they  expected  to  get 


78  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

matter  wherewith  to  enrich  the  second  and  other  edi- 
tions of  their  book.  Besides,  what  villain  is  quite  so 
low  as  he  who  breaks  bread  at  your  table  and  then 
goes  off  and  says  the  bread  was  heavy  ?  Even  the 
barbarous  Arabs  pledge  themselves  to  do  no  injury 
to  the  man  whose  salt  they  have  once  tasted,  and, 
in  that  respect,  we  all  have  more  or  less  of  the  Arab 
nature  in  our  bosoms;  if  not,  more  shame  to  us." 

Having  finished  this  homily,  the  Naturalist  re- 
ferred to  the  bill  of  fare,  and  said: 

"What  next?" 

"  Something  national,"  responded  Robinson. 

"Then,  just  to  whet  your  appetite,  we'll  try  a 
paca  steak  first,  and  afterward  &  feijoadto." 

The  Colonel  smacked  his  lips  over  the  paca,  but 
with  a  doubtful  expression. 

"  It  tastes  very  like  the  muskrat  that  I  ate  in  one 
of  our  starvation  campaigns  down  south,"  said  he. 
"We  have  duly  sampled  the  paca.  Pass  it  on." 

"Now,"  said  the  Naturalist,  "we'll  have  the 
national  dish.  It  is  to  the  Brazilian  what  rice  is  to 
the  Chinaman  and  macaroni  to  the  Neapolitan.  The 
poor  subsist  upon  it  and  the  rich  return  to  it,  else  it 
would  not  be  found  in  a  restaurant  of  this  standing. 
Behold  it  —  the  feijoada  /" 

It  was  brought. 

"All  people  who  write  books  upon  Brazil  speak 
very  highly  of  the  feijoada  as  an  article  of  diet,  and 
say  that  foreigners  take  to  it  with  particular  gusto, 
as  they  do  to  the  dewy  cheese  of  Germany,  the  cor- 
morant soup  of  Shetland,  and  the  monkey  cutlets  of 
the  equatorial  regions." 


BOHEMIA.  79 


4 '  If  it's  considered  the  thing,  we'll  eat  it  or  die, " 
said  the  Colonel,  who  had  been  a  soldier. 

"Probably  both,"  surmised  Robinson,  eying  the 
Stygian  mess  before  him,  and  screwing  his  courage 
up. 

The  naturalist  continued  to  explain  : 

"The  basis  of  this  dish,  from  which  it  derives  its 
name  and  color,  is  the  feijao,  or  black  bean.  This 
chunky  piece  of  flesh  is  toucinho,  or  bacon,  added  to 
give  the  preparation  a  proper  unction.  This  flank  of 
meat  is  the  carne  secca,  the  dried  beef.  You  have 
certainly  seen  it  before.  As  it  appears  in  the  market 
it  is  of  a  dingy,  salty  whiteness,  and  looks  like  a 
strip  peeled  from  a  mummy.  Once  prepared,  it 
never  spoils,  but  is  transferred  from  generation  to 
generation,  and  from  one  merchant  to  another,  until 
it  is  either  worn  out  or  eaten.  This  piece,  for 
instance,  was  probably  dried  somewhere  in  the 
interior,  perhaps  in  the  remote  colony  times.  Since 
then,  darkies  have  trodden  it  as  it  was  stacked  upon 
the  wagon  ;  dogs  have  slept  upon  it  as  it  lay  in  the 
store  ;  and  fowls  have  been  mixed  up  with  it  in  the 
huckster's  basket  upon  the  street.  It  is  an  old  say- 
ing that  half  of  the  world  does  not  know  how 
the  other  half  lives.  But  that  is  not  the  worst 
of  it ;  they  do  not  even  know  how  they  themselves 
live." 

"I  have  eaten  hash,"  said  Robinson,  senten- 
tiously. 

"These  three  constituents,  being  mixed  and 
chopped  together,  form  the  mysterious  compound 
called  feijoada.  It  is  eaten  by  the  rich  and  the 


80  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

poor,  at  funerals  and  at  feasts.  Even  the  picnics  of 
Brazil  are  known  as  feijoadas,  the  whole,  by  synec- 
doche, taking  the  name  of  the  principal  part." 

"  By  all  the  stink-pots  of  Smyrna,  how  it  smells  !" 
cried  the  Colonel.  "  Don't  stir  it  up  !  Don't  irritate 
it,  please!  " 

"We  have  a  remedy  for  that.  Do  you  see  this 
basin  of  white  grated  stuff?  That  is  farinka,  the 
flour  of  the  mandioca  root.  Strew  this  over  your 
portion,  mix  it  up  well,  and  not  only  is  it  an  agree- 
able addition  as  an  article  of  food,  but  it  also  acts  as 
a  deodorizer,  or  disinfectant,  as  it  were." 

"  But  still  it  does  not  taste  good,"  protested  Rob- 
inson. 

"  There  is  a  remedy  for  every  evil.  Now  take  a 
spoonful  from  that  jar  of  peppers,  and  work  them  in 
judiciously.  There  !  Now  I'll  defy  you  to  find  fault 
with  it.  As  thus  arranged,  the  feijoada  is  not  only  a 
nutritious  food,  but  it  possesses  the  additional  recom- 
mendation of  not  tasting  bad.  Do  you  wonder  now 
that  the  foreigner  takes  to  it  so  kindly  ?  " 

For  pleasant  eating,  however,  our  friends  were  fain 
to  turn  to  the  French  dishes  to  complete  their  din- 
ner. After  these  the  Naturalist  plied  them  with 
strange  fruits,  such  as  they  had  never  seen  or  imag- 
ined before.  They  ate  the  mango  with  its  bouquet  of 
turpentine ;  the  fruit  of  the  passion-flower,  sickish- 
sweet,  like  the  mandrake  of  the  North  ;  the  musky 
little  tangerina  orange,  far  from  its  native  land  of 
Tangiers  ;  and  numerous  others  which  curiosity  more 
than  appetite  prompted  them  to  taste.  Foreign 
fruits,  however  delicious  they  may  be  in  reputation, 


BOHEMIA.  81 


are  rarely  agreeable  to  the  unaccustomed  palate  ;  a 
liking  for  them  must  be  acquired  by  practice. 

By  this  time  the  wine  had  circled  often  around 
among  the  ladies  in  the  remote  section  of  the  room, 
and  some  of  their  words  and  actions,  over-loud  and 
boisterous,  attracted  Robinson' s  attention.  He  saw 
that  they  were  French.  He  regretted  that  mis- 
taken economy  had  led  them  to  scrimp  the  linen 
under  the  chin  in  order  to  provide  great  flanges  of 
collar  to  support  the  ears.  He  noticed  also  that 
they  parted  their  hair  low  on  one  side,  and  swept  it 
in  a  heavy  black  wave  across  the  brow ;  high  fore- 
heads are  not  in  demand  among  a  certain  class  of 
women. 

One  of  these  wished  to  call  the  attention  of  a  gen- 
tleman at  some  distance  from  her. 

"Eh!  What's  that?"  asked  the  Colonel,  very 
much  startled. 

A  piece  of  bread,  as  big  as  a  pauper's  dinner,  had 
hurtled  through  the  air,  close  to  his  head. 

" Never  fear,"  said  the  Naturalist,  assuringly. 
"It  wasn't  meant  for  you.  They  are  sympathetic, 
to  be  sure,  but  they  do  not  throw  bread  at  you  on 
first  acquaintance." 

"  But  I  am  afraid  that  this  is  hardly  a  respectable 
place  that  we  have  got  into." 

' '  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  very  disreputable  place. 
But  then  very  respectable  men  come  here." 

"  Under  those  circumstances  I  suppose  we  may  as 
well  remain  and  help  raise  the  average." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  have  seen  ministers,  both  of  the  mis- 
sionary and  diplomatic  service,  at  dinner  here,  and 
6 


82  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

that  is  certainly  sufficient  proof  of  respectability. 
It  is  rare  that  you  can  drop  in  here  without  meeting 
some  celebrities.  Those  gentlemen  at  our  right  are 
artists,  actors,  playwrights,  and  journalists.  They 
belong  to  the  Lotos  Club,  or  at  least  would  belong  to 
it  if  there  was  one  here.  They  are  of  the  first  estate 
in  Bohemia,  and  live  well  while  they  may.  This  other 
handsome  young  man,  with  the  moustache,  may  be 
likened  to  a  member  of  the  Union  Club.  He  is  the 
finest  rider  at  the  amateur  bull-fight,  and  rarely  is 
there  a  tournament  in  which  he  does  not  receive 
some  wreath  or  ribbon  or  other  token  of  favor  from 
the  loftiest  ladies  in  Rio.  You  see  also  a  sprinkling 
of  the  officers  of  the  foreign  vessels.  That  gentle- 
man, alone  at  the  table,  with  one  foot  thrust  into  a 
broken-down  slipper  and  the  slipper  laid  upon  the 
neighboring  chair,  is  a  rich  fazendeiro  from  the  in- 
terior, down  here  taking  a  rest.  Did  you  ever  see  a 
pendulum  beat  more  regularly  than  his  knee  ?  He 
owns  a  big  coffee  plantation  somewhere,  and  some 
hundreds  of  slaves.  He  is  hospitable,  aristocratic, 
and  eats  with  his  knife." 

u  But  who  are  those  women  ?"  asked  Robinson. 

' '  They  ?  They  are  the  Bohemian  girls,  the  Mari- 
ettas, the  G-irofles,  and  the  Rose  Michons  of  opera 
bouffe,  and  are  open  to  an  engagement  either  from 
a  theatrical  manager  or  a  rich  baron.  They  may  be 
seen  any  fine  afternoon  out  on  the  Botafogo  road, 
taking  their  airing,  lap-dog  in  arms;  indeed,  their 
carriages  are  the  principal  ones  that  are  seen  in  Rio. 
At  night  they  go  to  the  opera,  the  varieties,  or  the 
circus,  and  whether  on  the  stage  or  off  they  are 


BOHEMIA.  83 


equally  conspicuous.  They  follow  in  the  footsteps 
of  Aimee.  Did  you  know  that  AimeVs  career  dated 
from  here  ?  If  you  wish,  we'll  stroll  around  to  the 
theatre  which  is  the  cradle  of  her  fame." 

But  his  friends  wisely  voted  to  defer  all  further  ex- 
plorations in  Bohemia  until  some  other  day. 


VIII. 
WEST  END   AECHITECTUEE. 

One  day  I  went  to  the  Botanic  Garden,  where  many  plants  well 
known  for  their  utility  might  be  seen  growing.  —  DARWIN. 


"  TDUT  I  dorft  want  to  ride  in  a  street-car,  if  my 

JL-)  name  is  Smith,"  said  Stacy,  with  some  show 
of  petulance. 

They  were  about  to  make  their  first  excursion  into 
the  suburbs.  The  objective  point  was  the  Botanical 
Garden.  They  were  discussing  the  methods  of  con- 
veyance thither. 

Robinson  took  up  the  argument. 

"The  public  carriages  of  this  place  are  awful  stuffy 
affairs,  Stacy.  They  have  an  unlimited  population  of 
pulgas,  and  a  bad  odor  generally.  And  then,  every 
coachman  is  a  tipsy,  Dick  Swiveller,  gone-to-seed 
sort  of  a  fellow.  He  wears  his  rusty  plug  hat  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  and  every  moment  it  seems  about 
to  topple  over  upon  the  occupants  of  the  carriage. 
He  smokes  cigarettes,  chaffs  with  his  comrades,  and 
in  his  few  moments  of  sober  reflection  he  wonders 
what  opera-bouife  combination  his  passengers  belong 
to.  Take  my  word  for  it,  Stacy,  that  fellow's  thoughts 
are  constantly  running  upon  the  indiscreet,  the  scan- 
dalous, or  the  desperate.  He  is  entirely  too  light- 
hearted  for  an  honest  hackman.  As  for  me,  give  me 
a  horse-car." 

84 


WEST  END  ARCHITECTURE.  85 

"It  is  not  a  horse-car  at  all,"  said  her  father, 
speaking  in  its  defence.  "It  is  drawn  by  mules." 

4 '  And  it  is  not  a  car  either  ;  it  is  a  bond, ' '  said 
Chester.  "  Why  is  it,  Mr.  Kingston  ?  What  makes 
them  call  a  street-car  a  bond?"  he  inquired  of  the 
Naturalist,  who,  although  unable  to  accompany 
them,  had  made  his  appearance  to  wish  them  a  pleas- 
ant day. 

This  gentleman  explained  to  them  why  it  was  that 
the  street-cars  of  Kio  were  designated  in  popular  par- 
lance by  the  English  word  bond,  although  their  own 
proper  name  of  carro  was  painted  conspicuously  upon 
them. 

When  this  innovation  was  introduced  in  that  an- 
tique city,  he  said,  the  public  mind  was  greatly 
exercised  over  certain  bonds  of  this  road,  which  were 
the  financial  talk  of  the  time  ;  and  when  the  cars 
appeared  upon  their  streets,  the  astonished  people 
cried  out,  "Ah,  here  are  those  wonderful  bonds  of 
which  we  have  heard  so  much." 

"  In  this  manner,"  said  he,  "the  Portuguese  lan- 
guage secured  a  new  word  to  its  vocabulary,  and  so 
firmly  is  it  established  now  that  no  purist  may  hope 
to  eliminate  it.  But  it  is  well  to  remember  its  origin, 
for  the  musty  philologist  of  the  future  will  some  day 
endeavor  to  trace  it  back  to  the  Latin  or  Arabic,  and 
will  probably  succeed." 

UI  know  of  another  reason  why  they  call  this 
affair  a  bond,"  said  Robinson. 

"And  why?" 

"It's  all  a  piece  of  their  grandiose  way  of  doing 
things  down  here.  No  wonder  that  we  humble  Yan- 


86  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

kees  believe  fabulous  stories  of  Brazilian  wealth 
when  we  hear  that  a  man  pays  three  thousand  reis 
for  an  ordinary  dinner  in  this  country  ;  and  yet  that's 
only  a  dollar  and  a  half.  It's  the  same  way  with  the 
street-car ;  it's  so  much  more  respectable  to  talk  of 
taking  a  bond  than  to  take  a  horse-car.  I  think  I 
have  remarked  before  that  this  is  the  poor  man's 
country.  Here  is  another  evidence  of  it.  No  man 
so  poor  that  he  cannot  indulge  in  a  bond." 

"  There  are  no  finer  cars  in  the  world,"  persisted 
the  Colonel.  ' '  Open,  and  breezy,  and  pleasant — 

"What  an  idea!  Who  ever  heard  of  a  street-car 
being  pleasant?"  retorted  the  girl.  "  Next,  I  sup- 
pose you  will  be  telling  me  about  the  social  advan- 
tages of  riding  in  one  of  them." 

"The  Princess  Imperial  goes  to  the  opera  in  one 
of  them,"  said  Robinson,  in  a  matter-of-fact  way,  as 
if  this  were  an  argument  hardly  worth  mentioning. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Stacy,  doubtingly. 

"  Nothing  in  particular.  Only  that  their  Imperial 
Highnesses,  the  future  Empress  of  Brazil  and  her 
noble  husband,  Prince  Louis  Philippe  Marie  Ferdi- 
nand Gaston  d'Orleans,  Comte  d'Eu,  are  conveyed, 
in  full  dress  and  glittering  uniform,  from  their  pala- 
tiarl  residence  in  the  suburbs  to  the  Imperial  Theatre 
of  Dom  Pedro  Segundo,  on  occasions  of  the  Italian 
opera,  in  one  of  those  same  street-cars  which  you, 
my  little  republican  friend  by  the  name  of  Smith,  are 
inclined  to  disdain.  Now  will  you  go  ?  " 

"I  suppose  I  must,"  she  answered,  resignedly. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  she  was  troubled  with  a 
curiosity  to  try  a  street-car  that  a  princess  had  rid- 
den in. 


WEST  END  ARCHITECTURE.  87 

"  Where's  P'line  ?  "  inquired  the  Colonel. 

"  Come,  Paul !  "  said  Robinson,  calling. 

"  Pauline,  dear,  we're  waiting!  "  said  Stacy. 

"  You,  Polly  !    Where  are  you?  "  cried  Chester. 

"Here  is  the  polynomial  individual  in  question," 
said  the  Naturalist,  as  the  child  appeared  from  the 
adjoining  room.  "  Good  morning,  and  a  pleasant 
day  to  you." 

They  found  themselves  very  comfortably  situated. 
The  car  was  on  its  way  from  the  heart  of  the  city  to 
one  of  its  finest  suburbs ;  hence  its  occupants  were 
respectable.  But  four  persons  were  permitted  to 
occupy  one  bench,  and  so  there  was  no  promiscuous 
crowding  and  pawing  of  knees.  And  as  the  fares 
were  not  insignificantly  small,  they  were  not  elbowed 
by  the  washerwoman  with  her  duds  and  the  street 
beggar  returning  from  his  post,  as  they  would  have 
been  in  New  York.  They  order  those  things  well 
in  Rio,  where  the  great  army  of  the  unwashed  have 
cheaper  cars  of  their  own,  labelled  Descalgos,  that  is, 
for  the  sans  culottes,  or,  more  literally,  the  barefooted. 

Chester  found  this  an  intensely  amusing  idea,  and 
being  a  youth  of  communistic  proclivities,  as  most 
boys  are,  and  desirous  of  seeing  the  world  in  all  of 
its  conditions,  he  could  with  difficulty  be  restrained 
from  pulling  oif  his  boots  and  joining  the  first  mot- 
ley crowd  of  descalcos  that  might  be  going  that  way. 
He  was  dissuaded,  however,  by  his  sister,  who,  in  a 
reproachful  voice,  simply  said  : 
"Ches-fer/" 

Our  little  pleasure  party  were  bowled  along  at  a 
rapid  rate  through   streets  that  were   bounded   by 


88  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

moist  walls,  upon  which  the  creepers  ran  and  crimson 
flowers  gleamed  ;  past  huge  gateways,  guarded  by 
carved  lions  and  dragons,  and  opening  toward  houses 
that  were  hidden  among  the  great  green  leaves  of  an 
exuberant  shrubbery,  and  under  trees,  grand  and 
straight,  or  gnarled  and  misshapen,  whose  names 
Pauline  was  never  tired  of  hearing,  and  then,  so 
hard  to  remember  were  they,  was  never  tired  of  for- 
getting. 

There  was  deep  rich  color  everywhere,  in  the  rock, 
the  forest,  and  the  sky,  and,  more  than  all,  in  the 
homes  of  the  people  who  inhabit  this  west  end  of  Rio 
de  Janeiro.  Before  their  doors  and  within  their 
gates  polished  globes  of  blue,  green,  and  yellow 
glass  were  suspended,  to  mirror  the  world  as  it  passed 
by.  The  ashlar  of  their  houses  was  of  porcelain 
tiles,  blue  and  white,  inlaid  in  every  design  known 
to  the  artist  in  mosaics.  The  cornices,  the  door- 
posts, and  all  of  the  architectural  trimmings,  were  of 
brown,  maroon,  or  other  heavy  hues.  A  glimpse  of 
the  interior  showed  draperies  of  red  curtain,  painted 
ceilings,  and  walls  that  were  papered  in  the  same 
florid  taste.  Everywhere  there  was  a  profusion  of 
ornament  and  an  almost  barbaric  sumptuousness  of 
decoration. 

That  this  was  not  exactly  chaste  and  well-consid- 
ered, granted  ;  but  then  where  Nature  attires  herself 
all  the  year  round  in  the  most  luxurious  colors,  where 
the  birds  are  red  and  green,  and  the  butterflies  seem 
to  have  dyed  their  wings  in  the  rainbow  as  they  flew, 
what  can  be  expected  of  poor  imitative  man  —  and 
woman  ?  If  they  were  to  paint  their  dwellings  in 


WEST  END  ARCHITECTURE.  89 

the  cold  and  tame  hues  of  the  northern  climate,  they 
would  have  appeared  as  so  many  inharmonious  blots 
upon  this  scene  of  beauty. 

But  this  subject  was  sufficiently  discussed  by  our 
friends  as  they  rode  by. 

"The  fact  is  that  Brazilian  household  art  is  now 
in  its  rococo  period,"  said  Stacy,  airing  some  of  her 
seminary  lore.  "  This  people  is  nothing  if  not  Par- 
isian, and  it  is  not  so  much  the  Paris  of  to-day  as  it 
is  the  Paris  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth." 

"As  witness  that  young  lady's  boot-heel  three 
seats  in  advance  of  us.  Two  inches  of  leather  and 
half  an  inch  of  heel-plate." 

It  was  her  father  who  had  spoken  again. 

"  The  genuine  Louis  Quincey  style,"  said  Chester. 

"  Oh,  dear,  what  shall  I  do?"  cried  the  girl,  in  vex- 
ation. "  Chester,  it  is  Louis  Quinze,  and  not  '  Louis 
Quincey.'  Now, please  remember  that,  Chetty.  And 
you,  papa,  I  would  be  just  as  proud  of  you  if  you 
would  set  Chester  a  good  example  by  keeping  your 
eyes  and  thoughts  on  the  mountains  yonder.  See 
how  sublime  they  are  with  the  clouds  around  them." 

When  Stacy  undertook  to  matronize  this  party, 
there  was  always  tribulation  in  store  for  her. 

"Now,  Stacy,"  said  Eobinson,  who  had  been 
doing  some  hard  thinking  in  the  interval,  "I  am 
going  to  prove  to  you  that  the  natural  and  only  true 
type  of  art  for  Brazil  is  the  exuberant  and  rich  school, 
what  you  are  pleased  to  call  the  rococo — that's  a  big 
word  for  a  little  girl;  I  wonder  what  it  means." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Stacy,  resignedly. 

"A  nation's  character  is  determined  by  its  climate, 


90  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

and  its  art  is  an  outgrowth  of  its  character.  It  is 
hardly  fair  for  us  of  the  distant  North  to  set  up  our 
paintings  as  a  standard  for  all  the  world  to  go  by. 
Just  as  the  Brazilian  pictures  seem  gaudy  to  us,  so 
would  one  of  our  forest  scenes  appear  loud  and  over- 
done to  a  Greenlander.  The  artist's  first  command- 
ment is  to  study  nature.  Yery  well ;  nature  is  as 
different  in  different  zones  as  white  and  green  are. 
It  is  to  be  expected  that  the  Greenlander' s  landscape 
would  be  sober  and  cold  and  gray,  while  the  Bra- 
zilian's would  be  profusely  and  lavishly  colored. 
The  Greenlander  would  consider  it  flagrantly  gaudy 
and  offensive  to  harmony  and  good  taste ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  doubtful  if  a  Brazilian  could  be  per- 
suaded to  paper  his  wall  with  the  finest  art  products 
of  Greenland. 

' '  When  you  were  at  the  Centennial  —  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  using  the  word  —  you  noticed  that  when 
you  entered  the  art  room  of  any  nation  it  was  like 
entering  the  nation  itself,  the  pictures  were  so  char- 
acteristic of  the  customs,  morals,  religion,  and,  above 
all  the  climate,  of  the  countries  whence  they  came. 
You  remember  how  the  Scandinavian  views  were  too 
gloomy  and  lifeless  for  your  taste,  and  how  those 
from  the  Latin  nations  were  too  wanton  and  extrav- 
agant; while  the  English  department,  with  skies, 
landscapes,  animals,  and  men,  as  you  have  been  ac- 
customed to  see  them,  was  exactly  in  accordance 
with  your  idea  of  what  art  ought  to  be.  So  would  a 
Swede  have  preferred  the  Scandinavian  pictures,  with 
their  winter  snows  and  their  people  muffled  up  to 
their  ears,  the  men  with  white  moustaches  and  the 


WEST  END  ARCHITECTURE.  91 

women  with  cheeks  of  the  perpetual  blush.  Not  that 
the  art  work  of  Sweden  is  better  than  that  of  Spain, 
perhaps,  but  only  that  the  Swede  likes  it  better. 

4 '  The  imagination  of  our  artists  at  home  is  chilled 
and  subdued  once  a  year  by  a  long  white  winter ;  if 
they  are  students  of  nature,  how  can  it  be  otherwise  ? 
During  that  period  their  paints  are  frozen  up,  as  it 
were,  and  they  go  to  work  at  coasting-scenes,  and 
sleighing-parties,  houses  snow-bound,  storms  on  the 
prairie,  and  what  not.  Now,  for  an  artist  who  has 
once  painted  a  landscape  in  winter,  it  will  be  impos- 
sible to  ever  bring  out  the  full  glory  of  the  same,  or 
any  other  view,  in  summer.  The  pale  ghost  of  that 
winter  will  follow  him  wherever  he  goes,  and  will 
creep  into  every  picture  that  he  may  produce;  just 
as  a  man  who  has  dwelt  long  over  the  pallid  dead 
face  upon  his  canvas  is  henceforth  unfitted  for  paint- 
ing portraits  in  the  rosy  flush  of  health.  Now  does 
it  not  seem  like  presumption  for  a  young  lady,  like 
yourself,  for  instance,  who  has  been  snow-bound 
within  doors  for  about  half  of  her  existence,  to.  sit  in 
judgment  upon  the  art  of  a  country  whose  verdure 
has  never  been  touched  by  a  frost  2" 

"  But  you  must  confess,"  persisted  she,  "  that 
these  confectionery  houses  of  theirs  are  in  wretched 
taste." 

u  You  mean  the  brown,  and  yellow,  and  cinna- 
mon, and  chocolate,  not  to  speak  of  the  gingerbread 
fixings,  that  we  are  passing  ?  And  so  you  and  all 
other  Americans  find  this  decoration  offensive,  do 
you  ?  But  what  kind  of  a  shock  do  you  think  a  sen- 
sitive Brazilian  would  feel  at  being  set  down  in  one 


92  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

of  our  sun-struck  villages  of  white  paint  and  green 
blinds  ?  Or  to  be  condemned  to  live  within  a  wall 
that  is  made  up  of  dingy  red  quadrangles  of  brick 
between  white  lines  of  mortar  ?  Or  to  be  punished 
with  the  sight  of  one  of  those  lately  introduced 
fantastic  styles  of  architecture,  in  which  a  red  brick, 
a  white  brick,  and  a  black  brick,  are  stood  up  in  a 
row  together,  like  the  picture  of  the  Indian,  the 
Caucasian,  and  the  African  races  in  our  old  geogra- 
phies ?  With  all  of  their  faults,  these  suburban  Bra- 
zilian dwellings  are  not  glaring,  but  seem  cool  and 
refreshing  to  the  eye,  and  I  must  confess  to  a  weak- 
ness for  them.  Those  Dutch  tiles  are  becoming  the 
proper  thing  in  the  States  even  now,  Stacy,  and  in 
a  few  years  they  will  be  very  common;  but  it  may  be 
a  century  before  our  people  will  know  how  to  dis- 
pose of  them  artistically." 

"That  is  out  of  the  question,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"You  can't  build  a  house  out  of  plaster  and  fancy 
chips  in  our  country.  It  wouldn't  last  as  long  as 
one  of  P'line's  play-houses.  It  would  freeze  and 
thaw  to  pieces  in  one  winter.  To  the  tropics  with 
your  porcelain  veneering." 

A  tall,  dark  lady  appeared  at  a  window  as  the  car 
went  by,  and  gazed  at  the  party  with  incurious  eyes. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Robinson.  "That  is  my 
final  justification  of  this  abundance  of  color ;  I 
always  save  my  strong  arguments  to  the  last.  How 
would  that  brunette  show  off  if  she  stood  in  a  white 
window-frame  and  was  seen  against  white  walls  and 
ceiling  beyond  ?  She  would  look  like  the  statue  of 
in  Ephesus." 


WEST  END  ARCHITECTURE.  93 

"I  thought  Knox  was  a  Scotchman,"  interrupted 
Chester. 

u  But  now,  with  the  purple  curtains  behind  her, 
and  all  of  that  ochre  and  pigment  around  her  — 
omitting  the  white  stucco  on  her  face  —  she  is  alto- 
gether lovely.  I  can  see  the  warmth  in  her  cheek 
from  here.  I  say,  Stacy,  do  you  happen  to  see  a 
piece  of  white  paper  pasted  in  the  window  anywhere 
around  this  house  ?  That  is  the  placard  for  '  Rooms 
to  Rent.'  I  have  been  thinking  of  taking  lodgings 
in  a  Brazilian  family,  so  as  to  pick  up  the  language." 

' '  Please  do  not  stare,  and  sigh,  and  attract  atten- 
tion, Mr.  Robinson,"  replied  Stacy,  with  dignity. 
"A  lady  dislikes  exceedingly  to  be  scandalized  by 
the  ridiculous  conduct  of  her  escort." 

Nearer  and  nearer  they  came  to  the  rocky  wall  of 
Corcovado,  which  at  last  stood  up  over  them  so  ma- 
jestic, so  awe-inspiring,  and  so  high,  that  the  boy 
Chester  had  to  open  his  mouth  in  order  to  see  the  top 
of  it.  The  street  became  a  country  road,  winding 
around  the  curve  of  the  Lagoa  de  Freitas,  where  the 
wild  birds  were  paddling,  and  penetrating  jungles 
and  swamps  where  the  wild  flowers  were  languishing. 
The  passengers  were  reduced  to  two  or  three  people 
on  picnic  bound,  attended  by  blacks  who  carried 
heavy  hampers.  Thus  they  entered  a  portion  of  the 
road  that  is  bounded  on  one  side  by  a  dense  matting 
of  bamboos  and  bananas,  and  on  the  other  by  a  tall 
iron  railing,  at  a  gateway  in  which  they  alighted  and 
passed  into  the  famous  Botanical  Gardens  of  Brazil. 


IX. 
DOWJST  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS. 

There  were  times  in  which  we  men  believed  that  there  was  some- 
thing divine  in  every  herb,  flower,  and  tree  ;  when  we  understood 
that  there  were  nymphs  and  satyrs  in  every  wood. —  SOCIAL  PRES- 
SURE. 

rpHERE,  at  the  entrance,  they  stopped  in  silence. 
-L  Before  them,  extending  away  into  the  distance, 
was  the  Alley  of  Palms.  In  two  ranks  they  stood, 
their  tall  shafts  as  precise  and  white  as  so  many  sol- 
diers in  pipe-clay.  Their  lines  were  as  regular  as 
mathematical  device  could  make  them,  and  their 
trunks  were  as  straight  as  if  they  had  grown  by  the 
plumb-line.  High  up  in  the  air  their  tufts  of  foliage 
were  in  a  perpetual  tremor,  shaken  by  every  breath 
of  wind  that  was  astir. 

"Do  you  know,"  whispered  Stacy,  "  I  feel  hon- 
ored as  we  walk  between  these  palms.  They  seem 
like  monarchs  drawn  up  in  line  to  do  us  homage.  I 
would  like  to  believe  that  these  were  once  human 
beings,  the  kings  of  the  earth,  who  have  been  ma- 
liciously changed  into  trees  by  the  spell  of  some  evil 
magician  or  by  the  sentence  of  some  cruel  conqueror. 
Why  don't  we  have  more  romance  in  our  times  ? 
The  ancients  believed  in  Daphne,  and  Lotos,  and 
Cyparissus,  and  even  the  philosophical  Germans  are 
more  fanciful  than  we,  for  I  have  just  been  reading 
in  Musaeus  the  pathetic  story  of  Mrs.  Krokus,  who 

94 


DOWN  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS.  95 

was  a  kind  of  a  modern  dryad.     Why  are  we  so 
intensely  practical  ? " 

u  I  would  like-very  much  to  believe  in  that  Daph- 
ne and  Lotos,  nymph-in-a-straight-jacket  theory  of 
yours,"  responded  Robinson.  "  I  would  go  immedi- 
ately and  lean  up  against  one  of  those  trees  and  ap- 
ply my  ear  to  the  bark  and  listen  to  hear  what 
doughty  deeds  I  must  do  in  order  to  release  its  spirit 
from  bondage.  But  I  can't  now,  Stacy,  and  I  would 
rather  that  you  wouldn't  ask  me  to.  Upon  my  word,  I 
can't,  Stacy.  I  couldn't  possibly  get  over  the  idea 
that  I  was  embracing  a  drill-sergeant,  and  that  would 
be  unpleasant,  you  know.  Pardon  me  if  I  offer  the 
suggestion  that  you  might  like  it." 

Half  way  down  the  Alley  of  Palms  there  is  a  foun- 
tain, and  there,  at  right  angles,  another  path  inter- 
sects this.  Along  its  borders  the  topiarist,  as  if 
from  some  freak  or  desire  of  contrast,  has  planted 
rows  of  trees  whose  branches  are  gnarled,  writhen, 
and  stunted,  and,  shadowed  as  they  are  by  the  stately 
palms,  they  seem  like  hump-back  dwarfs  cringing  in 
the  presence  of  giants. 

Down  this  route  the  party  turned,  wandering  aim- 
lessly, as  pleasure  seekers  always  should  wander. 
They  saw  palms  spiny  and  smooth,  short  and  tall, 
with  trunks  cylindrical  and  conical,  the  latter  taper- 
ing like  an  inverted  pegtop.  There  were  roses,  pines, 
and  oranges,  and  a  thousand  other  things  beside. 
They  saw  the  cinnamon  tree,  the  clove,  and  the  tea- 
shrub,  of  which  there  are  great  plantations  in  Brazil; 
the  long  and  crooked  fruit  of  the  jaca,  which  Chester 
likened  to  the  stuffed  club  of  the  theatre;  and  the 


96  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

round  balls  of  bread-fruit  which  he  is  yet  inclined  to 
believe  were  only  large  walnuts  in  their  green  hulls. 

But  the  stranger  from  the  North  cannot  appreciate 
the  Botanical  Garden  at  first  sight;  to  him  it  is  an 
exotic  among  exotics,  nothing  more,  and  he  can  push 
his  way  from  the  tangled  verdure  of  the  adjacent  hill- 
sides into  the  more  orderly  growth  of  the  garden 
without  noticing  that  he  has  passed  from  Brazil  into 
the  vegetable  world  in  general.  It  is  to  the  native 
botanist  that  the  many  rare  and  strange  plants  of 
this  collection,  gathered  from  all  around  the  world, 
possess  peculiar  interest. 

After  that  first  look  down  the  grand  vista  of  the 
Alley  of  Palms  all  things  else  seemed  tame  to  our 
party,  and  in  an  hour  or  two  they  were  tired,  as  picnic- 
ers  usually  are,  and  wisely  concluded  to  rest.  They 
found  themselves  in  a  quarter  of  the  garden  where 
all  of  the  tides  of  people  seemed  to  converge  sooner 
or  later.  It  was  a  pleasant  spot,  moist,  and  cool,  and 
shady.  There  were  ponds  of  water  for  the  dogs  to 
wade  in  and  patches  of  sward  for  the  children  to  play 
on.  In  a  grotto  hard  by  there  was  a  dripping  spring 
for  the  thirsty.  Tall  sheaves  of  bamboos  grew  up 
from  the  ground  and  sheltered  the  intervening  paths, 
which  wound  around  and  involved  themselves  in 
many  a  dsedalian  intricacy  and  beauty.  Rustic  tables 
and  benches  were  here,  occupied  by  little  coteries  en- 
gaged at  the  pleasant  pastime  of  lunch.  On  the  yel- 
low, beaten  earth  of  the  walk  one  of  these  groups  had 
collected  an  armful  of  dry  fagots  of  the  bamboo,  and 
over  their  flickering  blaze  the  universal  coffee-pot 
was  seething.  A  Brazilian  without  his  coffee  is  as 
unhappy  as  a  German  without  his  beer. 


DOWN  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS.  97 

There  was  an  air  of  solid  comfort  about  this  fete 
champetre  that  was  quite  enticing  to  the  weary 
strangers. 

< '  I  am  hungry, ' '  complained  Chester.  "  If  I  was  to 
go  over  and  look  at  those  folks,  I  wonder  if  they 
wouldn't  invite  me  to  dinner. " 

The  Colonel  answered  him. 

"No.  We'll  have  a  little  spread  of  our  own, 
Chester,  if  you  and  Bemvindo  will  just  step  outside 
of  the  gate  to  that  rural  Cremorne  there,  and  get  the 
best  you  can  find,  and  plenty  of  it." 

"Trust  me  for  that.  Talk  about  catering  ;  that's 
my  middle  name." 

The  boys  returned  in  grand  spirits,  accompanied 
by  a  servant,  who  carried  a  basket  on  his  head,  a 
tea-urn  in  one  hand,  and  an  aged  bottle  in  the  other. 

"  Here's  dinner  for  a  dozen,"  exclaimed  Chester. 
4 '  We  bought  the  fellow  out.  He  thinks  we  Yankees 
are  going  to  open  a  lunch-counter  up  here  in  opposi- 
tion to  him.  I  expect  the  police  around  here  in  half 
an  hour  or  so  to  arrest  us  for  running  a  restaurant 
without  a  license.  See,  here's  wine  for  the  men 
folks,  and  cold  tea  for  the  ladies.  It  was  nuts  to  see 
him  look  wild  when  I  scooped  his  last  pound  of  ice 
into  the  teapot.  He  couldn't  understand  it.  It's 
very  evident  he  doesn't  know  what  high  living  is." 

The  boy  displayed  the  luncheon  'of  cold  meats, 
biscuits,  salad,  cheese,  olives,  fruit,  and  almonds. 

4 '  Come,  papa,  give  your  arm  to  Polly,  while  Stacy 
leads  the  reluctant  Robin  son  up  to  the  festal  board. 
No  ceremony.     Pitch  in  !  " 
7 


98  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

u  You  have  no  sugar  for  our  tea,"  complained 
Stacy. 

"That's  so!  Well,  I'll  just  drop  in  at  our  neigh- 
bor's over  here  and  borrow  a  pinch."  • 

And  off  he  started. 

' '  Chester,  you  foolish  boy,  come  back, ' '  called  his 
sister.  ' '  If  you  get  into  difficulty,  how  can  we  get 
you  out?  " 

"There  will  be  an  international  war  yet,  all  on 
account  of  that  boy,"  remarked  Robinson. 

"What  have  you  in  that  tin  pan,  with  the  leaves 
over  it  ?  "  Stacy  inquired. 

"  Doce"  answered  the  boy,  uncovering  this  con- 
centrated sweetness,  and  revealing  several  pounds  of 
the  indigestible  goiabada. 

"  Oh,  that  sickish  stuff!  Why  did  you  get  it?  No- 
body likes  it." 

"I  knew  you  didn't,  and  that's  the  reason  why  I 
got  so  much.  Have  a  slice,  Polly  ?  '  Sweets  to  the 
sweet,'  you  know." 

"Yes,  please,"  replied  the  little  girl,  tendering 
her  plate. 

"That's  right,  Polly.  One  of  the  first  things 
you  want  to  do  when  you  arrive  in  a  foreign  land  is 
to  accommodate  yourself  to  its  customs,  and  doce  is 
one  of  them." 

After  luncheon  and  a  smoke,  the  Colonel  began 
to  wish  himself  back  at  the  hotel,  where  he  could 
have  a  peaceful  sleep.  For  the  last  half-hour  he  had 
been  reflecting  upon  the  possibility  of  raising  such 
bamboos  as  these  in  the  States,  when  it  occurred  to 
him  that  he  could  not  think  of  any  use  to  which  they 


DOWN  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS.  99 

could  be  applied  if  they  were  produced.  This  dis- 
gusted him,  and  he  took  the  weary  Pauline  in  his 
arms  and  started. 

"I'm  going  home,  children.  I'll  deliver  P' line 
over  to  your  maid,  Stacy.  But  don't  you  hurry  on 
my  account.  Better  stay  and  make  a  day  of  it  while 
you  are  here." 

Then  Chester  took  up  the  subject  of  the  bamboos, 
turned  it  once  over  in  his  brain,  and  in  less  than  thirty 
seconds  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  were 
some  acres  of  good  fishing-rods  going  to  waste  in 
that  valley.  So  much  more  ingenious  and  practical 
was  this  precocious  boy  than  his  experienced  father. 

He  and  Bemvindo  took  the  remnants  of  doce  and 
started  out  to  captivate  the  children  thereabouts. 
These  cautious  creatures  timidly  accepted  the  sweets, 
put  them  and  their  fingers  into  their  mouths,  and 
retired  to  their  mothers'  arms.  They  admired  the 
boy  for  his  boldness,  and  loved  him  for  his  gener- 
osity, but  feared  him  for  his  audacity  ;  they  looked 
upon  him  as  the  effeminate  youths  of  Rome  in  her 
dotage  may  have  looked  upon  some  brawny,  fair- 
haired,  good-natured  Gothic  chieftain  from  the  North. 

The  next  piece  of  divertisement  was  a  butterfly- 
trap,  baited  with  a  slice  of  doce,  over  which  Chester 
tilted  his  hat  in  the  position  of  a  "  dead-fall,"  and 
sustained  it  by  a  stick  of  bamboo,  with  a  string  lead- 
ing from  it  to  his  hand.  Stretched  upon  the  ground, 
with  his  heels  in  the  air,  he  kept  his  gaze  closely 
upon  this  instrument  of  destruction  for  a  few  min- 
utes. The  children  of  the  neighborhood,  whose  big 


100  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

eyes  followed  him  everywhere,  could  resist  their  curi- 
osity no  longer,  but  gathered  around  him  as  he  lay. 

But  it  is  an  adage  among  all  country  school-boys 
that  a  trap  that  is  watched  catches  no  rabbits,  and 
Chester's  experience  allows  us  to  extend  the  maxim 
so  as  to  include  butterflies  as  well.  These  wanton 
insects  could  find  sweet  juices  enough  upon  the 
trunks  of  the  surrounding  trees,  without  venturing 
within  reach  of  that  natural  enemy  of  theirs,  a  boy's 
hat. 

In  the  meantime  Robinson  was  extended  upon  the 
sward  at  Stacy's  feet,  after  the  time-honored  fashion 
of  sylvan  and  seaside  lovers,  which,  however,  we  see 
oftener  in  the  ideal  picture  than  in  real  life  ;  the 
ordinary  swain,  with  self-respect  and  white  panta- 
loons, is  apt  to  think  twice  before  he  measures  his 
length  upon  the  sand  or  green  grass. 

He  lay  there  in  that  easy  state  of  silence  which 
naturally  follows  a  hearty  lunch,  lazily  switching  the 
air  with  his  cane  as  the  butterflies  flew  over  him,  just 
beyond  his  reach. 

At  last  he  spoke: 

"Why  don't  you  say  something,  Stacy?  I  am 
beginning  to  feel  neglected." 

"I  was  thinking,"  she  said,  "how  strange  it  is  that 
people  are  so  much  alike  all  the  civilized  world  over. 
How  strange  it  is  that  we  should  find  human  nature 
and  dress  and  manner  so  similar  here  to  what  they  are 
at  home.  It  must  be  because  all  the  world  begins  at 
Paris.  What  a  sublime  conceit  it  was  to  consider 
Boston  the  hub  of  the  universe!  It's  not  Boston,  it 
is  Paris,  and  Boston  is  the  fly  on  the  wheel." 


DOWN  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS.  101 

"My  thoughts  were  running  in  the  same  channel 
last  night,"  said  Kobinson.  "  I  was  reading  one  of 
the  oldest  books  of  African  exploration,  and  the  ex- 
plorer said  that  when  he  got  away  off  there  in  the 
centre  of  the  bush,  he  found  a  tribe  that  had  never 
seen  a  white  man  before,  and  the  king's  daughter 
immediately  opened  a  flirtation  with  him,  just  like  a 
graduate  from  the  boarding-school  that  you  used  to 
go  to,  Stacy.  She  rustled  her  bangles,  fanned  her- 
self with  an  ostrich-wing,  and  looked  unutterable 
things  at  him,  just  the  same  as  an  American  woman. 
The  poor  man  was  quite  discouraged.  He  didn't 
care  so  much  for  the  source  of  the  Nile  as  he  did  for 
some  spot  where  he  could  be  at  peace.  Deliver  me 
from  a  girl  that  flirts  !  "  concluded  Kobinson,  with 
clasped  hands  and  an  affectation  of  horror. 

"  And  there,"  exclaimed  Stacy,  "  as  sure  as  I  live 
there  is  a  bold  thing  making  signs  at  you  with  her  fan 
while  her  mother's  back  is  turned." 

"  By  Jove,  is  that  so  ?  Where  ?  As  long  as  I  have 
been  in  Brazil  there  hasn't  a  blessed  one  of  them  ap- 
parently been  aware  of  my  existence,  and  I  flatter 
myself  that  I  used  to  be  an  object  of  some  interest 
at  home.  They  don't  notice  an  eligible  young  man 
any  more  than  they  do  a  lamp-post." 

"But  when  they  do  look  at  you,  don't  they  bring 
the  house  down,  though  ?  "  sighed  Chester,  who  had 
approached  them  unawares. 

Chester  remembered  a  young  lady,  of  the  early  age 
at  which,  in  this  country,  the  lily  of  childish  wonder 
turns  to  the  rose  of  woman's  desire,  and  too  young 
yet  to  be  a  punctilious  observer  of  the  very  strict 


102  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

proprieties  of  Brazilian  life,  whom  he  had  seen  on  the 
preceding  day  as  he  walked  down  the  Street  of  the 
Orange-Trees.  Leaning  out  of  the  window  as  he 
passed,  she  had  melted  his  soul  with  a  look  that  was 
eagerness,  admiration,  anticipation,  wonder,  mischief, 
and  shyness,  all  blended  in  one. 

"I  felt  my  toes  tingle,"  he  said.  "It  is  evident 
they  are  partial  to  distinguished  foreigners  down 
here." 

"At  last  the  boy  has  been  struck  by  what  the 
poet  calls  'the  sweet  lightnings  of  a  lover's  eyes,' ' 
laughed  Eobinson. 

"  '  The  sheet  lightning  of  a  lover's  eyes,'  "  conned 
Chester.  "  That's  pretty  good.  I'll  remember  that. 
May  want  to  use  it  some  day. " 

"But  where  is  she,  Stacy?"  asked  Robinson,  re- 
suming the  former  subject.  "  I  am  prepared  to  en- 
tertain overtures." 

"I  was  mistaken.  I  fear  I  did  the  lady  injustice. 
She  was  only 'calling  her  poodle." 

"  I  wish  I  had  her  moustache,"  whispered  Chester 
to  E-obinson,  running  his  finger  across  his  upper  lip 
in  search  of  indications. 

"Apoiado,  Chester,  Which  means,  those  are  my 
sentiments.  Sweeping  black  eye-brows  are  an  excel- 
lent thing  in  woman,  but  two  upon  one  face  are  an 
ample  sufficiency." 

"And  there  are  the  boys  romping  the  same  games 
that  they  do  in  our  picnics  along  the  Hudson,"  com- 
plained Stacy. 

"I  think  I  could  go  over  there  and  turn  them  a 


DOWN  THE  ALLEY  OF  PALMS.  103 

hand-spring  in  the  English  language  that  would  as- 
tonish them,"  suggested  Chester. 

"I  wouldn't,  Chester.  Undue  exertion  is  said  to 
bring  on  the  yellow  fever.  There,  just  look  at  that 
coffee-pot,  too,"  exclaimed  Stacy,  petulantly.  "It  is 
the  perfect  picture  of  the  first  coifee-pot  that  I  ever 
saw.  Now,  why  can't  they  get  up  something  new  in 
that  article,  at  least  ?  Have  they  no  invention  at 
all?" 

"I  have  frequently  observed,"  remarked  Robin- 
son, philosophically,  "that  coffee-pots,  like  bad  hab- 
its, are  pretty  much  the  same  all  the  world  over." 

"  They  might  at  least  change  the  spout  to  the  other 
side  and  put  the  handle  in  its  place,"  pondered 
Stacy,  thoughtfully.  "  But  then,  don't  you  see,  if 
they  put  the  handle  on  the  other  side  and  the  spout 
on  the  other  side,  it  wouldn't  be  the  other  side  at 
all;  it  would  be  the  same  side." 

She  was  almost  ready  to  cry  with  vexation. 

"You  are  tired,  Stacy,"  said  Robinson,  sooth- 
ingly. "Let's  not  worry  over  these  great  questions 
any  longer.  Let's  try  something  easy.  Let' stake  up 
the  future  of  Roumania." 

"  If  you  don't  like  the  way  we  carry  on  affairs  on 
this  side  of  the  world,  you  ought  to  go  to  China  and 
Japan  —  where  everything  is  the  other  side  about," 
hinted  her  brother. 

"Chester,  you  have  yet  to  learn  one  of  the  first 
principles  of  gentlemanly  conduct,"  she  replied,  with 
dignity. 

"  What  can  that  be  ?  "  mused  Chester,  rehearsing 
his  accomplishments  upon  his  fingers.  "Let's  see: 


104:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

I  can  smoke,  I  keep  a  dog,  I  know  all  the  brands  of 
champagne,  I'm  disgusted  with  the  world  generally; 
but  then  I  can't  wear  an  eye-glass  yet,  unless  the  glass 
is  knocked  out.  That  must  be  it.  What  is  it,  Stacy  ? 
What's  the  answer?" 

"  It's  the  art  of  being  inconspicuous;  try  and 
attain  it,  please." 

"1  suppose  you  would  like  to  have  us  go  home, 
and  leave  you  and  Eob  alone." 

c '  Well,  if  you  really  think  you  must  go  home,  and 
you  are  certain  you  won't  get  lost  on  the  way,  I  sup- 
pose we  could  manage  to  get  along  without  you." 

"  Come,  Bemvindo,  let  us  go.  My  good  Bem- 
vindo,  sooner  or  later  the  time  must  come  to  every 
younger  brother  when  he  first  learns  that  his  big 
sister  does  not  appreciate  his  company  at  its  true 
worth.  Bemvindo,  that  bitter  moment  has  now  ar- 
rived." 

The  docile  boy  valet  merely  bowed,  smiled,  and 
showed  his  teeth.  This  high  tragic  style  was  not 
very  intelligible  to  him. 

"  Vamos,  Bemvindo  !  Here  we  go !  " 


X. 

THE  LIYEKY  OF  THE  SUN. 

Mislike  me  not  for  my  complexion, 

The  shadowed  livery  of  the  burnished  sun, 

To  whom  I  am  a  neighbor  and  near  bred. 

The  best-regarded  virgins  of  our  clime 

Have  loved  it.  — SHAKESPEARE. 

ROBINSON  and  Stacy  still  continued  talking 
upon  the  same  very  ordinary  topic.  Lovers 
though  they  were,  they  did  not  lose  much  time  in 
star-gazing,  mooning,  or  other  astronomical  games 
to  which  young  people  are  given  in  those  evenings  of 
idleness  and  idiocy  which  we  call  courtship.  Nor 
was  there  much  of  the  sweet  complaisance  of  love  in 
their  manner  and  conversation  ;  on  the  contrary,  they 
accepted  each  other's  words  at  their  least  worth,  and 
sometimes  at  less  than  their  real  value,  frequently 
finding  themselves  engaged  in  the  sober  business  of 
prolonged  argument  and  sarcastic  response,  in  the 
midst  of  which  they  would  hesitate,  fearing  that  they 
were  unduly  anticipating  the  felicity  of  married  life. 
"  In  other  words,  Stacy,  you  are  in  search  of  some- 
thing original  and  unconventional.  Well,  there  you 
have  it.  I  refer  to  that  amicable  game  of  leap-frog 
between  those  black  and  white  boys  —  a  sort  of  an 
international  contest,  as  it  were.  It  seems  that  John 
Brown's  soul  has  reached  even  this  out-of-the-world 
place." 

105 


106  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"I  do  not  mind  that,"  she  replied.  "It  is  nat- 
ural for  boys  to  be  careless  about  their  associations. 
But  see  that  young  woman  lunching  with  the  family 
yonder!  She  seems  to  be  one  of  them,  and  yet  she 
is  unmistakably  colored.  It  would  be  straining  po- 
liteness to  call  her  even  cafe  aulait." 

"I  have  seen  fairer  blondes,"  observed  Robinson. 
"But  perhaps  this  radical  brunette  is  a  country 
cousin.  They  say  the  sun  is  very  hot  up  in  the 
interior." 

"The  sun  never  did  all  of  that  mischief;  that  hair 
and  those  lips  are  inherited.  But  where  did  she  get 
them,  and  who  is  she  ?  The  others  seem  to  treat  her 
like  a  favorite  sister.  I  do  not  like  it." 

"My  dear  young  lady,  would  you  have  all  of  the 
flowers  in  the  garden  of  precisely  the  same  hue  ? 
Have  you  no  eye  for  the  heightened  beauty  of  variety 
and  contrast  ?  Are  you  not  willing  to  admit  an  oc- 
casional dusky  dahlia  and  velvety  pansy  among  your 
cold  and  colorless  lilies  and  crocuses  ?  And  yet  but 
a  little  while  ago  you  talked  art  like  a  Bond  street 
critic. ' ' 

"Pshaw!  "  said  Stacy. 

"  It's  all  right  enough,  if  you  will  only  look  at  it 
philosophically.  Why  can't  women  be  rational,  as 
well  as  men  ?  Don't  we  have  blondes  and  brunettes 
at  home  ?  And  is  not  some  grand  division  into  two 
parties  as  necessary  in  the  social  as  in  the  political 
system  ?  Else  how  could  the  fashion  have  a  chance  to 
sheer  around,  giving  black  eyes  and  horse-mane 
hair  an  opportunity  to  triumph  over  blue  eyes  and 
corn-silk,  and  vice  versa  ?  It  is  probably  the  same 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  107 

down  here,  only  the  women  are  divided  into  the 
brunettes  and  the  coffee-and-creams. " 

"  But  do  you  mean  to  say  that  such  people  go  into 
good  society  here  ? " 

"  As  yet,  Stacy,  I  must  confess  to  but  a  passing 
acquaintance  with  that  charmed  circle  ;  that  is,  I 
passed  a  blazoned  carriage  on  its  way  to  mass  this 
morning, -and  we  passed  the  balcony  of  a  viscount's 
window  the  other  night  as  we  were  going  down 
town—" 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  saw  a  good  deal  on  that  ex- 
cursion. "Where  did  you  go  ?  " 

"  Thank  you  for  the  compliment.  Compliments 
from  such  a  source  are  doubly  valuable.  I  always 
flattered  myself  that  I  had  an  observant  eye.  And 
among  the  occupants  of  both  coach  and  balcony  there 
were  ladies  with  hair  of  the  natural  crimp." 

"How  polite  !"  said  Stacy,  sarcastically. 

"Also  at  the  theatre  we  noticed  a  young  couple 
who  sat  hand  in  hand  and  sighed  over  the  same  melo- 
drama. She  was  not  unpleasant  to  look  upon,  but  he 
—  fall  this  way,  Stacy,  if  you  are  going  to  faint  — 
compared  with  him  Senator  Bruce  would  gleam  like 
a  marble  statue. " 

"Let's  talk  about  something  pleasant,  please. 
What  a  beautiful  sunset  we  are  going  to  have  !" 

"  No,  the  worst  is  to  come.  Be  a  brave  girl,  now, 
while  I  tell  you  the  story  which  was  told  to  us  as  we 
looked  upon  this  affecting  spectacle  at  the  melodrama. 
Take  my  hand  if  it  will  be  any  consolation  to  you." 

"  I  feel  pretty  well,  thank  you.  I  never  take  anaes- 
thetics. What  is  the  story  ?  "  she  asked,  with  an  air 
of  martyrdom. 


108  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


"In  this  city  there  lives  a  native  civil  engineer  by 
the  name  of  Reboucas.  He  is  renowned  as  being  the 
best  Brazilian  engineer,  living  or  dead ;  and  his  is  a 
profession  which  in  this  country  ranks  among  the 
very  first  in  social  preference.  Therefore  he  is  inti- 
mate with  all  the  dignitaries  of  the  empire,  has  filled 
numerous  positions  of  responsibility  at  home  and 
trust  abroad,  and  is  honored  and  invited  every  where. 
At  one  time  he  was  present  at  a  ball,  where,  among 
the  other  guests,  was  the  Imperial  Princess  herself. 
In  due  time  Reboucas,  having  pulled  up  his  collar 
behind,  felt  of  his  necktie,  and  twisted  his  watch- 
guard  once  or  twice  around,  sauntered  up  to  a  lady 
who  was  fair  to  look  upon,  and  successfully  went 
through  the  formula  of  asking  her  to  dance.  But, 
as  he  was  colored  —  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that,  didn't  I? 
—  the  lady  in  question  answered  him  'No,'  not  a 
little  to  his  embarrassment. 

"Among  the  witnesses  of  this  little  conflict  of 
races  was  the  Count  d'Eu,  husband  to  the  Princess 
and  descendant  of  a  line  of  French  kings,  who  has 
won  the  hearts  of  the  Brazilian  people  by  his  bravery, 
affability,  interest  in  the  progress  of  the  empire,  and 
the  irreproachable  character  of  his  private  life.  He 
whispered  a  word  to  his  wife;  she  was  graciously 
agreeable,  and  in  the  next  set  she  was  dancing  so- 
ciably with  the  dark  engineer  Reboucas.  After  that 
he  did  not  lack  partners.  There  was  not  a  lady  in 
the  room  that  was  not  willing  and  anxious  to  play 
Desdemona  to  his  Othello." 

"Is  that  true  ?  "  asked  Stacy,  doubtingly. 

"It  is  history." 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  109 

"  But  he  can't  be  a  negro." 

"  He  is  a  mulatto,  at  least." 

c '  Well,  it  was  very  kind  in  her,  and  I  admire  her 
for  it;  but  I  must  confess  that  I  am  disappointed  in 
my  first  princess.  I  thought  they  were  always  sur- 
rounded by  handsome  courtiers,  like  Lancelot  and 
Sir  Walter  Ealeigh." 

c '  So  they  are  —  on  the  New  York  stage.  But  in 
real  life  it  is  different.  Look  at  Victoria,  Queen  of 
England  and  Empress  of  India,  whose  most  intimate 
associates  were  the  faithful  servant,  John  Brown,  and 
the  masterly  Jew,  Disraeli." 

"I  do  not  like  that  system,"  said  Stacy,  shaking 
her  head. 

"There  you  agree  with  the  American  people  at 
large,  who  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  but  the  most 
stylish  article  in  kings  and  princes,  and  whose  ideal 
of  the  understrappers  in  nobility  is  equally  exalted, 
as  witness  the  reception  which  they  give  the  barber 
counts  at  the  watering-places  every  summer.-' 

"  But  why  don't  the  kings  and  queens  always  have 
brilliant  courts  and  elegant  courtiers  around  them  ? 
I'm  sure  I  would." 

"  It  is  because,  being  royal  themselves,  they  know 
how  thin  the  gloss  of  birth  and  rank  is,  and,  being 
powerful  and  above  social  impeachment,  they  can 
afford  to  choose  those  companions  that  please  them 
best  ;  just  as  a  millionaire's  wife  can  afford  to  wear  a 
calico  dress  if  she  wishes  to.  Only  a  Victoria  could 
dare  to  make  a  humble  servant  her  honored  personal 
attendant,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  lords  of  the  realm; 
and  no  smaller  person  than  Frederick  the  Great  could 


110  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

be  permitted  to  welcome  to  his  palace  the  ostracised 
writer,  Yoltaire.  Cophetua,  the  king,  married  a 
beggar's  daughter,  it  is  said;  and  yet  before  her  ex- 
altation there  were  undoubtedly  other  sets  and  circles 
of  beggar-maids  that  would  not  associate  with  this 
one,  because,  forsooth,  they  were  doing  a  more  ex- 
tensive business  than  she. 

"Cinderella's  big  sisters  were  grander  than  she, 
but  the  prince  overlooked  them  in  order  to  find  her 
and  make  her  his  wife.  True  royalty  has  but  little 
respect  for  rank.  True  royalty  is  not  exclusive  ; 
snobbery  is.  It  is  only  the  snob  who  boasts  of  his 
distinguished  acquaintances,  and  leads  the  conversa- 
tion around  through  artful  channels  to  this  subject 
again  and  again.  Prince  Paladin,  as  he  talks  to  you, 
does  not  insinuate  frequent  adroit  allusions  to  his 
camaraderie  with  Prince  Plantagenet ;  this  acquaint- 
ance seems  such  a  matter  of  course  to  him  that  he 
does  not  think  it  worth  mentioning." 

"Why  do  you  talk  that  way  to  me?  "  yawned 
Stacy.  "Why  don't  you  save  your  lecture  for  a 
larger  audience  ? " 

"Because  you  need  it.  Because  you  are  as  fickle 
as  most  American  women,  and  while  you  often  blus- 
ter—  in  your  pretty  womanish  way  —  about  our  glo- 
rious republican  institutions  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  yet  you  would  forego  a  new  spring  bonnet  for 
the  honor  of  touching  the  hand  of  a  foreign  noble- 
man, who  would  probably  disdain  you  for  your  infat- 
uation. Why  are  Americans  so  inconsistent  '(  While 
they  boast  that  theirs  is  a  land  of  freedom,  floating 
the  flag  of  freedom,  and  presided  over  by  the  bird  of 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  Ill 

freedom,  yet  no  other  civilized  country  in  the  world 
is  so  intolerant  in  its  treatment  of  certain  classes  of 
humanity.  England  confides  the  prestige  of  her  past 
and  the  hopes  of  her  future  into  the  hands  of  a  Jew  ; 
Americans  are  too  fastidious  to  sleep  in  the  same 
caravansary  with  his  brethren.  Here  in  Brazil,  the 
mulatto  Beboucas  promenades  with  the  Emperor  and 
dances  with  the  Princess  Imperial;  but  when  he  was 
in  the  United  States,  where  he  has  travelled,  he  was 
refused  admittance  to  hotels,  ejected  from  sleeping- 
cars,  and  submitted  to  every  other  indignity  which 
our  chivalrous  sons  of  freedom  customarily  inflict 
upon  a  large  proportion  of  their  fellow-citizens.  And 
yet  when  he  returned  to  Brazil  he  nobly  forgot  the 
injuries  which  he  had  suifered  at  the  hands  of  a  por- 
tion of  our  people,  and  remembered  only  the  courte- 
sies that  he  received  there  and  the  praiseworthy 
things  that  he  saw  there;  and  to-day  the  United 
States  of  America  has  no  warmer  admirer  and  Amer- 
ican interests  no  more  vigorous  defender  in  Brazil 
than  Andre  Keboucas." 

"  That  was  really  noble,  Is  it  really  true  ?  " 
uYes,  and  more  too.  They  say  that  when  Ke- 
boucas  went  to  New  York,  he  was  consigned,  by  let- 
ters of  introduction,  to  a  prominent  democrat  of  that 
city.  This  gentleman  was  still  steadfast  in  the  faith 
of  the  good  old  times,  but  he  felt  that  the  duties  of 
hospitality  should  be  paramount  to  all  qualms  of 
personal  dislike,  and  so  he  went  to  the  wharf  to 
welcome  his  guest  to  the  land  of  the  free.  Rebougas 
disembarked,  saw  in  this  man  the  friend  of  his  friend, 
and,  in  the  warmth  of  his  impetuous  nature,  he 


112  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

rushed  up  to  him  and  flung  his  arms  about  him  in 
that  close  embrace  with  which  Brazilians  greet  each 
other." 

"  What  did  the  democrat  do  ? "  asked  Stacy. 

"History  does  not  record  any  violent  outburst  on 
his  part,  but  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  he  suffered  a 
whole  volcano  of  internal  emotion,  for  the  wharves 
were  a  public  place,  and  many  people  witnessed  and 
enjoyed  this  encounter." 

The  waning  sunlight  upon  the  mountain-tops 
warned  them  that  it  was  time  to  go.  They  followed 
the  winding  path  back  toward  the  Alley  of  Palms. 
At  one  of  the  tables  which  they  passed  they  saw  a 
laboring  man  and  his  family,  assembled  here  for  a 
half-holiday  and  a  dinner  in  the  arbor.  The  central 
and  most  conspicuous  dish  of  their  plain  tiffin  was  of 
oranges,  big,  yellow,  and  heaped  high.  These  gave  an 
air  of  luxury  to  the  scene,  casting  a  golden  glamour 
over  the  surrounding  viands,  as  an  immaculate  shirt- 
front  will  make  the  coarsest  dress  seem  respectable. 

"Oranges,  oranges  everywhere,"  said  Stacy.  "I 
cannot  imagine  that  poverty  is  very  terrible  in  this 
country.  The  poor  man  has  no  overcoats  to  buy  for 
himself,  no  shoes  for  his  children,  and  no  furs  for  his 
wife.  If  the  landlord  turns  him  out  of  the  house,  he 
can  sleep  comfortably  in  the  park.  And  even  though 
a  beggar,  he  feasts  on  fruits  which  the  millionaire  at 
home  cannot  buy,  they  are  so  fresh  and  juicy  and 
sweet." 

"To  which  you  may  add  that  cachaca  costs  only 
two  cents  a  drink,  and  a  man  can  get  as  tipsy  as  an 
independent  voter  at  the  trifling  cost  of  half  a  dime. " 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  113 

u  When  we  children  were  outwalking,"  continued 
Stacy,  "I  peeped  into  a  dingy  eating-house  by  the 
side  of  the  street.  Some  water-carriers  were  dining 
there.  There  was  nothing  upon  the  soiled  table  but 
bread  and  coffee,  and  a  few  little  fish  that  looked  as 
if  they  had  died  with  the  fever,  they  were  so  parched 
and  thin.  But  while  we  were  spying,  the  boy 
brought  in  a  great  bowl  of  just  such  oranges  as 
these,  and  they  fairly  illuminated  the  den  with  their 
splendor.  They  changed  the  looks  of  the  table  so 
that  I  truly  envied  these  men  and  their  appetites 
and  their  feast." 

" Wasn't  Chester  gallant  enough  to  invite  you  in  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  would  go  anywhere,  but  of  course  we 
couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  Why,  the  place  was 
awful,  and  the  men  were  horribly  rough.  The  dis- 
agreeable creatures,  why  don't  they  keep  clean  ? " 

"  O,  Stacy,  Stacy!  I  fear  your  benevolent  senti- 
ments, like  your  republican  principles,  are  more 
showy  than  practical.  I  fear  you  will  never  become 
a  Florence  Nightingale  or  a  Romola." 

"  Yes,  I  would,"  answered  the  girl,  stoutly.  "I 
would  go  among  the  lowest  classes  if  it  would  do  any 
good." 

"Yes,  and  you  would  have  a  couple  of  pages  to 
hold  up  your  train,  and  an  advance  guard  of  small 
boys  to  scatter  chloride  of  lime  and  sprinkle  cologne 
before  you.  A  heroic  missionary's  wife  you  would 
make!" 

"Do  you  doubt  me?  Then  take  me  anywhere 
you  choose  among  the  poor.  I  will  go." 

"All  right!     We'll  take  a  Descalqos  car  for  home. 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


Those  bare-footed  people  will  gain  refinement  just 
by  looking  at  you,  and  if  you  smile  on  them  once 
they  will  pray  for  us  for  a  month  to  come." 

"  Yery  well,"  said  Stacy,  reluctantly,  "I  will  go." 

"But  first  —  will  you  have  the  kindness  to  let  me 
see  your  feet?" 

Stacy  knew  that  her  feet  were  small  and  properly 
arched,  and  a  moment's  reflection  assured  her  that 
her  boots  were  new  and  neatly  fitting.  So,  without 
a  word  of  protestation,  she  swept  her  skirts  back 
with  her  two  hands  and  made  the  desired  exposi- 
tion. If  she  had  happened  to  have  on  her  old 
shoes  that  day  she  would  have  been  indignant  at 
such  a  request. 

"Well?"  she  asked,  inquiringly. 

"It  won't  do,"  he  replied.  "It  is  very  evident 
that  you  are  not  barefooted,  and  just  as  evident 
that  by  no  stretch  of  the  imagination  you  can  be 
said  to  wear  tamancos  or  slippers.  I  fear  the  con- 
ductor will  not  admit  you." 

"What!  Is  he  supposed  to  know  what  kind  of 
shoes  I  have  on?" 

"It  is  to  be  presumed." 
'How  rude!     To  be  sure,  I'll  not  go." 

"However,  it  is  said  that  this  select  circle  is 
sometimes  open  to  well-dressed  persons  on  condi- 
tion that  they  pay  according  to  their  attire.  But  I 
would  rather  not  take  you  on  those  terms.  It 
might  cost  me  my  fortune." 

"How  absurd!  You  know  that  I  am  very  eco- 
nomical," and  the  fair  economist  complacently  gath- 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  115 

ered  her  fleecy  shawl  closer  around  her  neck  and 
stroked  the  finger  of  her  faultless  glove. 

The  dusk  of  evening  was  upon  them  now,  the 
cool,  odorous,  refreshing  dusk  of  a  winter  evening 
between  the  solstices.  They  were  the  only  occu- 
pants of  the  car  which  they  had  chosen.  Humble 
though  it  was,  the  seats  of  this  vehicle  were  cleaner 
and  more  comfortable  than  the  benches  of  the 
cathedrals  which  it  passed  on  its  daily  route. 
Around  its  sides  the  curtains  were  furled,  leaving 
nothing  between  them  and  the  fresh  air  without. 
Thus  they  sped  home  again  through  the  brakes, 
and  the  jungles,  and  the  overhanging  trees,  where 
the  cicada  was  whistling  his  shrill  song,  the  fire-fly 
was  lighting  his  lamp,  the  clumsy  vampire  was  pad- 
dling about  in  the  air,  and  the  night-bird  was  croak- 
ing his  complaints  to  his  babbling  neighbor,  the 
tree-toad. 

Stacy's  face  brightened  with  the  charm,  the 
novelty,  and  —  if  I  may  be  pardoned  the  use  of  such 
a  word  in  connection  with  a  street  car  —  the  excite- 
ment of  their  position. 

"  It  is  delightful !  It  is  grand  !  It  is  glorious  ! " 
she  cried.  "It  reminds  me  of — " 

"A  summer  beer-garden  on  wheels,"  interposed 
Kobinson.  "I  knew  you  thought  so.  On  this  point, 
at  least,  the  deepest  emotions  of  our  hearts  are  the 
same." 

The  sympathetic  driver  saw  that  he  had  an  ap- 
preciative party  behind  him.  "They  are  un- 
doubtedly foreigners,"  he  thought,  "and  unaccus- 
tomed to  luxury.  They  have  probably  never  seen 


116  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

a  bond  before.  Now  I'll  proceed  to  show  them 
what's  what." 

He  leaned  over  toward  the  pair  of  little  mules, 
which  were  already  trotting  down  the  smooth  road 
at  no  laggard  pace.  Gathering  up  the  ends  of  the 
reins,  he  lashed  the  beasts  into  a  gallop.  At  every 
jump  he  lashed  and  lashed  them  again,  until,  with 
their  ears  laid  back  over  their  haunches,  like  rabbits 
in  a  race,  they  were  skimming  over  the  track  on  a 
dead  run. 

Thus  they  came  to  Botafogo  Bay,  whose  glory 
of  moonlight,  starlight,  and  lamplight  burst  upon 
them  with  a  splendor  which  almost  dazzled  the 
sight.  The  view  had  ceased  to  be  merely  romantic ; 
it  was  now  spectacular.  Around  its  symmetrical 
curve  of  white  water-wall,  the  lines  of  flaring  lamps 
extended  in  either  direction  to  an  indefinite  dis- 
tance, as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  winding  in 
and  curving  out  with  the  sinuosities  of  the  shore. 
Each  of  these  had  its  reflection  in  the  quiet  water 
below,  with  which  it  flickered  and  winked  in  con- 
stant communion,  and  thus  the  illumination  was 
doubled.  Meanwhile,  far  over  the  bay,  on  the  other 
side,  were  the  answering  signals  of  the  sister  city 
Nitheroy,  whose  lamps  were  gleaming  in  a  cordon 
of  fire  like  a  rank  of  musketry  in  simultaneous 
blaze. 

If  we  except  the  sleigh-ride,  which,  of  course,  is 
the  best  means  of  internal  transport  yet  discovered, 
I  cannot  imagine  a  more  charming  trip  than  this 
around  the  great  bend  of  Botafogo  Bay  when  the 
lamps  are  lit  and  the  stars  are  out.  Overhead  is 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  117 

the  sky,  peaceful  and  pure ;  underneath,  the  water, 
lying  in  that  tranquil  indolence  which  seems  to 
invest  all  nature  in  this  sultry  middle  zone  of 
earth.  There  was  nothing  to  mar  the  scene  but  the 
great  black-brown  rock  of  the  Sugar  Loaf,  standing 
guard  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  and  throwing  its 
dark  umbra  far  out  across  the  water,  like  a  frown 
upon  a  beautiful  face. 

The  gloom  of  this  shadow,  however,  did  not  reach 
so  far  as  to  dampen  the  spirits  of  our  friends. 

"Now,  this  is  the  true  luxury  of  all  travel!" 
cried  Robinson,  with  enthusiasm.  "Ah,  now  I 
regret  the  days  arid  days  that  I  have  passed  in  a 
Pullman  car  and  fancied  that  I  was  enjoying  ease  ; 
or  in  an  ocean  steamship,  and  thought  it  was 
pleasure.  In  Venice  I  have — " 

"Henry,  why  will  you  talk  that  way?  You 
know  you  never  were  in  Yenice." 

"Stacy,  you  throw  a  burst  of  eloquence  off  the 
track  by  interposing  a  trivial  fact.  Simple  girl !  and 
have  you  never  learned  that  truth  should  never  be 
allowed  to  interfere  with  rhetoric  ?  As  I  was  saying, 
when  I  was  in  Yenice,  many  an  evening  I  floated 
down  the  watery  streets,  trailing  my  hand  behind 
in  the  soft  ripples  of  the  gondola's  wake,  while  the 
only  sounds  to  be  heard  were  the  song  of  the  gon- 
dolier and  the  plash  of  the  water  against  the  marble 
palaces  of  the  ancient  doges;  and  I 'have  thought 
that  all  of  this  was  impressive.  I  have  paddled 
the  morpunkee  down  the  sacred  Indian  rivers,  and 
fancied  that  it  smacked  of  romance.  In  Nevada  I 
have  ridden  the  perilous  current  of  the  mountain 


118  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

flume,  and  in  Canada  I  have  found  an  uncertain 
seat  upon  the  skittish  tobogan,  and  thought  that 
these  sports  were  exciting.  And  in  the  backwoods 
I  have  gone  sleigh-riding  with  eight  young  men 
and  sixteen  girls,  packed  in  a  wagon-box  like  sar- 
dines, and  I  have  flattered  myself  that  this  was 
solid  comfort.  But,  Stacy,  I  am  glad  to  forget 
them  all  now.  Such  pleasures  seem  very  gross  and 
inferior  when  compared  with  this  street-car  ride 
around  Botafogo  Bay,  with  the  gentle  stars  above 
and  you  by  my  side." 

"There  are  no  less  than  a  dozen  unoccupied 
benches  in  this  car ;  I  cannot  see  any  excuse  for 
your  crowding  so." 

"O  Jehu!  This  is  glorious !  Smite  your  steeds 
once  again,  Podargus!  Larrup  them  mules,  Hank 
Monk  !  You've  got  to  get  us  there  on  time." 

" Aren't  you  getting  your  mythology  a  trifle 
mixed?"  asked  Stacy. 

"Well,  then  we'll  try  a  tableau  of  Pluto  and 
Proserpine.  We'll  play  that  I  am  Pluto,  who, 
you  know,  after  being  refused  by  all  of  his  lady  ac- 
quaintances, ran  off  with  the  pretty  flower  girl, 
Proserpine.  I  think  I'll  answer  for  Pluto  pretty 
well ;  and  you  —  well,  you  are  pretty,  Stacy,  and 
you  can't  deny  it ;  and  I  saw  you  pluck  a  rose  on 
the  sly  up  in  the  garden,  in  spite  of  the  prohibition 
posted  on  all  the  trees." 

"It  was  so  much  like  home  that  I  couldn't  help 
it.  Besides,  how  could  I  be  expected  to  read 
notices  in  Portuguese?" 

4  4  This  is  my  chariot,  and  all  we  have  to  do  is  to 


THE  LIVERY  OF  THE  SUN.  119 

suppose  that  those  two  mules  are  four  black  horses, 
and  our  equipment  is  complete.  As  for  our  desti- 
nation, Bio  will  fill  that  bill  beautifully.  I  am 
afraid  you  don't  fully  understand  the  part  you  are 
to  play,  Stacy.  I  am  eloping  with  you,  and  you 
don't  want  to  go.  You  don't  throw  life  enough 
into  your  performance.  You  act  very  much  as  if 
you  did  want  to  go." 

"Henry,  do  behave  yourself.  What  will  folks 
think  of  us  ?  Thank  fortune,  here  is  the  hotel  at 
last." 

""Well,  Proserpine,  how  do  you  like  your  new 
home?"  asked  Robinson,  as  they  approached  the 
door. 

''It  is  not  an  unpleasant  place,  Pluto.  Eing  for 
a  pomegranate,  and  I  will  take  a  bite." 


XI. 
AFTERNOON  SERVICE. 

Four  cavaliers  prepare  for  venturous  deeds, 
And  lowly  bending  to  the  lists  advance ; 
Rich  are  their  scarfs,  their  chargers  f eatly  prance ; 
If  in  the  dangerous  game  they  shine  to-day, 
The  crowd's  loud  shout  and  ladies'  lovely  glance, 
Best  prize  of  better  deeds,  they  bear  away, 
And  all  that  kings  or  chiefs  e'er  gain  their  toils  repay. 

—  BYRON. 

~YTT~HEN  Sunday  came  again  and  the  hour  for 
VV  morning  service  drew  near,  Chester  entered 
the  parlor,  laid  his  prayer  book  on  the  piano  and 
weighted  it  down  with  a  glittering  revolver  of 
American  manufacture.  When  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany assembled,  a  few  minutes  later,  they  found 
the  boy  industriously  whetting  a  sheath  knife  upon 
his  shoe. 

"Hello  ! "  said  the  Colonel.  "What's  the  mean- 
ing of  all  this  murderous  array  ?  " 

"It's  the  church  militant  rising  and  putting  its 
armor  on,"  answered  Chester,  critically  drawing  the 
edge  of  the  knife  across  his  thumb.  "Every  drop 
of  Huguenot  blood  in  my  veins  calls  on  me  to  be 
brave  to-day  in  the  defence  of  religious  liberty  and 
freedom  of  conscience.  I  say,  Rob,  if  those  Catho- 
lics boil  us  in  oil,  I  hope  it  won't  be  castor  oil, 
don't  you?" 

120 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  121 

"  It  is  evident  that  this  young  gentleman  is  enter- 
taining some  popular  fallacies  concerning  religious 
freedom  in  Brazil,"  said  the  Naturalist.  "No, 
Chester,  the  Inquisition  is  abroad  no  more,  and 
you  cannot  hope  for  the  novelty  of  experience  of 
being  boiled  in  oil  or  roasted  on  a  gridiron  to-day. 
But  don't  despair,  my  boy.  If  you  would  be  a 
hero  and  a  martyr,  there  is  a  greater  heroism  and 
a  greater  martyrdom  than  that  which  braves  and  en- 
dures the  rack  and  sword ;  it  is  the  heroism  of  him 
who  goes  to  the  sleepy  church  to  which  you  are 
bound  to-day,  and  listens  to  a  prosy  sermon  flanked 
by  a  couple  of  machine-sung  hymns,  and  experiences 
the  desolate  companionship  of  an  audience  composed 
of  one  person  to  every  two  pews." 

"Everybody  told  us  so,"  protested  Chester. 
"Everybody  said  that  we  would  have  to  fight  for 
our  faith  down  here,  and  that  the  Protestants  had 
to  meet  in  caves  and  garrets,  and  every  sexton  was 
a  sentinel." 

"  Everybody  is  mistaken,  then.  The  Protestants 
have  churches,  complete  in  every  feature  except  the 
bell  and  spire  ;  these,  being  considered  especially 
the  insignia  of  a  temple  of  worship,  are  monopo- 
lized by  the  Catholics." 

"I  always  heard  that  the  Catholics  were  very 
bigoted  here,"  said  Stacy. 

c '  Some  of  them  are,  of  course,  but  their  power 
is  not  equal  to  their  will.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
large  proportion  of  the  educated  Brazilians  are 
Catholics  only  in  form  and  outward  show,  having  at 
heart  deserted  the  Holy  Church  without  espousing 


122  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

any  better,  and  are  thus  at  large  upon  all  matters  of 
religious  belief.  Others,  like  the  bitter  and  perse- 
vering Ganganelli,  are  open  and  avowed  heretics, 
and  lose  no  opportunity  to  ridicule  the  Pope  and 
his  underlings  in  the  columns  of  the  daily  papers, 
the  cartoons  of  the  pictorials,  and  the  buffooneries 
of  the  carnival.  Oh,  this  is  a  very  free  country,  as 
far  as  concerns  the  expression  of  religious  and 
political  opinions.  Liberty  even  runs  into  license; 
and  Pope  and  Apostle,  Emperor  and  Princess  Im- 
perial, are  at  times  reviled  in  a  manner  which,  even 
to  an  American,  seems  indecent  and  shameful." 

"I  say,  pa,  I  don't  feel  very  well  to-day,"  said 
Chester.  "I  don't  believe  I  want  to  go  to  church." 

He  had  to  go,  however,  and  endure  all  that  the 
Naturalist  had  foretold.  But  he  mitigated  the  evil 
by  sleeping  through  the  sermon. 

"It  is  the  way  with  Christians  all  the  world 
over,"  said  Stacy.  "Who  does  not  suffer,  sleeps. 
Let  us  remember  in  his  favor  that,  between  suffer- 
ing and  slumber,  he  chose  the  former,  like  the  little 
hero  that  he  is." 

"  'The  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the 
church, ' ' '  quoted  the  Naturalist.  l  c  Persecution, 
like  the  protracted  meeting,  is  infallible  as  a  means 
of  reviving  the  dormant  faith.  A  little  of  it  would 
be  a  blessed  thing  for  the  Protestant  churches  in 
Brazil.  Let  the  government  put  a  prohibition  upon 
this  form  of  religion,  and  every  young  Englishman 
and  American  in  the  city  would  drop  his  novel  and 
poker-chips  and  dust  up  his  rubric  and  sally  forth 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  123 

with  his  heart  full  of  the  zeal  which  animated  his 
fathers  before  him." 

In  the  afternoon,  having  left  the  children  at  home 
under  some  specious  pretext,  the  adults  of  this  group 
went  to  a  bull-fight.  Stacy,  who  is  known  to  us  as 
a  stickler  for  the  proper  observance  of  the  proprie- 
ties of  life,  was  of  the  party.  Let  us  be  duly  shocked 
and  saddened  as  we  reflect  upon  the  sights  that  are 
seen  by  the  rural  Christian  when  in  New  York,  or 
by  the  New  York  Christian  when  abroad. 

"It's  the  only  chance,"  said  Eobinson.  "The 
Brazilian  bull-fight  is  synchronous  with  the  board- 
ing house  turkey;  it's  Sunday  or  never." 

"The  best  society  go,"  added  the  Naturalist. 
"  The  best  families  of  Bio  will  be  represented  there, 
both  in  the  actors  and  the  spectators.  Distinguished 
ladies  —  or,  rather,  the  wives  of  distinguished  men, 
since  women  per  se  are  not  distinguished  down 
here  — will  disburse  the  ribbons  and  the  roses  which 
are  the  victor's  meed  in  this  modern  tournament. 

"See,  it  is  an  amateur  affair,"  he  continued,  pro- 
ducing a  hand-bill  and  reading  from  it  the  announce- 
ment of  an  entertainment  in  two  acts  —  four  bulls  to 
the  act  —  which  was  to  be  given  by  the  distinguished 
and  illustrious  young  gentlemen  of  the  Bull-Fight- 
ing Club  of  Rio  de  Janeiro. 

"I  have  given  a  literal  rendering  of  the  phrase- 
ology," said  he.  "  In  this  nation  of  excessive  polite- 
ness, every  man  is  illustrious  to  begin  with;  and  after 
covering  himself  with  the  dust  and  glory  of  the  bull- 
ring to-day,  I  doubt  not  that  the  amateur  gladiator 
will  be  illustrissimo  if  not  excellentissimo." 


124:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  very  polite  affair.  The  shady 
arc  of  the  immense  wooden  amphitheatre  was  filled 
with  a  decent  and  appreciative  concourse,  while  an 
occasional  hardy  citizen  broiled  in  the  sun  of  the 
opposite  side.  From  the  boxes  overhead,  rich  ban- 
ners shook  lazily  in  the  breeze ;  and  there  were  fine 
ladies  there,  musky  with  odors,  dusky  with  the  tan 
of  the  tropics,  wearing  silks  and  opera-cloaks,  and 
waving  feather  fans.  They  came  out  this  blessed 
Sabbath  afternoon  to  see  a  few  unoffending  bulls 
harpooned  by  the  young  gentlemen  of  their  acquaint- 
ance. 

"Strange  and  brutal  taste  !"  said  Stacy,  shudder- 
ing. 

"Reminds  me  of  the  taste  of  the  young  ladies  of 
the  English  nobility,  who  hunt  the  pretty  fox  to 
death  and  call  it  sport,"  retorted  Robinson. 

uBut  see,"  he  continued,  pointing  out  a  choice 
portion  of  the  veranda  which  was  occupied  by  a  troop 
of  little  folks,  whose  attenuated  and  lack-lustre  faces, 
together  with  their  general  want  of  style,  proclaimed 
them  to  be  the  children  of  some  charity  or  other. 
"What  hurts  the  bulls  pleases  the  orphans.  They 
manage  these  eleemosynary  entertainments  better 
here  than  they  do  at  home,  where  they  give  the  poor 
things  nothing  more  substantial  in  the  way  of  amuse- 
ment than  an  occasional  visit  to  the  graveyard  or 
Sunday-school." 

The  arrangements  went  on.  The  mummery  of 
salutation  and  ceremony  proceeded,  introducing  a 
couple  of  boy  pages  with  wands  of  office,  a  sump- 
ter-mule  in  a  gay  equipage,  and  a  procession  and 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  125 

dress  parade  of  all  the  participants,  giving  them  op- 
portunity to  show  their  fine  clothes  before  the  dust 
should  fly.  Cavaliers  in  brilliant  dress  rode  into 
the  ring,  exhibiting  the  superb  intelligence  of  their 
horses,  which,  by  hint,  touch,  and  inclination  of  the 
body,  they  guided  through  the  various  evolutions  of 
salute  and  courtesy. 

The  director  of  amusements  rode  in.  He  was  a 
tall  man,  with  a  great  length  of  leg,  a  great  deal  of 
moustache,  and  an  inconsiderable  expanse  of  fore- 
head. 

Announced  by  a  grand  blurt  of  music,  the  first 
bull  came  leisurely  trotting  in.  His  horns  were 
sheathed  in  leather  caps. 

"  Alas  !"  mourned  Robinson,  "  we  have  fallen  on 
tender-hearted  times.  His  horns  are  padded.  If 
that  is  one  of  the  results  of  Dom  Pedro's  going 
abroad,  he'd  better  stay  at  home." 

"These  pads,"  said  the  Naturalist,  "are  conces- 
sions to  that  advanced  state  of  civilization  which  de- 
mands that  the  bull  should  be  helpless,  unprotected, 
and  shorn  of  his  only  means  of  self-defence  in  his 
modern  tournaments  with  man.  It  is  equal  to  throw- 
ing a  captive  barbarian  into  the  lion's  den  on  a  Eo- 
man  holiday,  and  then  toning  down  the  brutality  of 
the  affair  by  refusing  him  weapons,  lest  he  might 
hurt  some  of  the  municipal  lions  and  tigers." 

Thus  cased  in  heavy  leather,  their  blunted  horns 
were  not  much  more  effective  in  their  power  of  thrust 
than  the  toe  of  an  irascible  man's  boot.  More  than 
once  in  the  afternoon's  entertainment  the  disgusted 
animal  seemed  to  realize  the  mockery  of  his  posi- 


126  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

tion,  and,  as  if  in  grim  sarcasm,  turned  and  kicked 
at  his  persecutors.  More  than  once,  trembling  with 
fear  and  beset  on  every  side,  the  victim  plunged  at 
the  high  board  fence  which  surrounded  the  ring,  and 
attempted  to  escape.  Usually  he  fell  back,  amid  the 
jeers  and  laughter  of  the  people.  Sometimes,  climb- 
ing like  a  dog,  he  scaled  the  barrier,  to  the  conster- 
nation of  the  outsiders,  but  was  quickly  returned 
through  the  nearest  gate. 

Taken  at  their  best,  these  bulls  were  not  ferocious 
beasts.  A  child  might  have  met  one  of  them  in 
the  highway  and  the  bull  would  have  given  him  the 
road.  They  were  small,  slab-sided,  timid,  and  by 
no  means  anxious  for  war.  The  principal  occupa- 
tion of  the  fighters  was  in  attempts  to  stir  up  the 
taurine  temper.  To  this  end,  banners  of  cloth  were 
flaunted  over  his  horns  and  dragged  on  the  ground 
before  him.  They  were  not  necessarily  red,  as 
popular  report  has  it,  but  seemed  to  be  of  any  con- 
venient hue.  They  produced  the  desired  effect,  and 
the  vicious  animal  gored  them,  tossed  them,  and 
trampled  them,  with  the  most  deadly  intent. 

"Mr.  Kingston,  you  are  scientific,"  said  Robin- 
son ;  ' '  tell  me  why  it  is  that  the  sweep  of  a  few 
yards  of  fabric,  about  equal  to  the  trail  of  a  fine 
lady's  dress,  will  vex  so  heavy  a  temperament  into 
the  maddest  fury." 

"Referred  to  the  psychologist  of  animal  nature," 
returned  the  Naturalist.  "And  now  will  you  ex- 
plain to  me  why  it  is  that  a  chicken-cock  may  be 
mesmerized  into  the  deepest  and  most  motionless 
reverie,  simply  by  placing  his  head  close  to  the 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  127 

floor  and  drawing  a  chalk  line  from  his  bill  out 
across  the  boards  ?  These  cases  of  cock  and  bull 
are  not  dissimilar." 

Each  bull  lasted  about  fifteen  minutes.  From 
some  hidden  corral  underneath  the  tiers  of  benches 
he  bolted  into  the  ring  with  a  sudden  impetus,  as  if 
he  had  been  pricked  in  the  rear  by  some  dastardly 
barb  in  the  hands  of  the  stable  boy  without.  This 
was  probably  the  case,  as  no  opportunity  was  lost 
for  the  torture  and  tearing  of  living  flesh.  On  his 
left  shoulder  was  literally  pinned  —  for  it  was  hooked 
into  his  hide  —  a  great  rosette,  from  which  the 
streamers  floated  as  he  ran.  The  mounted  cavalier 
rode  after  him,  chasing  him,  circling  around  him, 
watching  his  opportunity,  and  finally  thrust  his 
lance  into  the  bull's  massive  neck.  The  staff  broke 
at  a  point  in  the  middle,  made  purposely  weak,  and 
left  two  feet  of  heavy  shaft  swinging  in  the  air  and 
vexing  the  wound  as  he  ran.  Footmen  with  shorter 
barbs,  one  in  each  hand,  hovered  around,  waiting 
for  a  chance  to  face  the  animal  and  stick  the 
weapons  into  the  opposing  shoulders  ;  this  was  close 
work  and  dangerous,  as  it  seemed  to  be  contrary  to 
the  rules  of  the  ring  to  throw  these  little  spears  as 
harpoons  or  javelins  are  thrown. 

The  horsemen,  however,  were  in  but  little  peril 
of  being  attacked,  as  the  bull,  having  been  herded 
with  horses  and  by  them  from  his  calf  hood  up,  was 
slow  to  conceive  that  his  old  associate  could  mean 
him  any  harm.  Once  the  mounted  man,  leaning 
from  his  horse  and  throwing  his  weight  upon  the 
lance,  thrust  it  well-nigh  to  the  vitals  of  the  beast, 


128  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


which  staggered,  fell,  recovered  himself,  and  grew 
frantic  with  agony,  dropping  his  jaw  and  sweeping 
the  ground  with  his  tongue.  This  was  a  master- 
stroke, and  won  the  rider  great  renown. 

At  this  point  Stacy  trembled  with  sympathy  and 
horror,  and  said : 

" Let's  go  home." 

"Not  yet,"  pleaded  Eobinson.  "  Be  patient. 
The  bull  may  kill  a  man  yet." 

Whereupon  Stacy  brightened  up  and  consented 
to  remain.  It  was  easy  to  see  on  which  side  her 
heart  was  enlisted. 

"Be  brave,  as  the  women  are  down  here,"  urged 
Robinson. 

"  To  be  brave  is  to  be  brutal,"  she  replied. 

" "Would  you  call  her  brutal?"  he  asked,  pointing 
out  a  young  lady  of  refined  appearance,  whose  face 
was  as  smiling  and  placid  as  if  this  was  an  opera 
and  that  was  an  artificial  agony  that  the  creature 
was  undergoing.  "No,  she  is  only  honest  about 
it ;  and  I'll  venture  to  say  that  she  is  no  more  cruel 
than  some  of  your  intimate  friends  at  home  who  go 
to  the  matinee  and  weep  over  the  misfortunes  of  the 
persecuted  outcast  of  some  French  play,  and  then, 
returning  home,  insult  the  beggar-girl  who  crouches 
at  their  door-step." 

Among  the  fighters,  some  thirty  in  number,  were 
three  professional  tauromachians,  dressed  in  the 
blackest  of  black.  Two  of  them  were  white  men, 
who  looked  very  much  like  executioners,  while  the 
third,  a  tall  and  nimble  negro,  had  something  of 
the  Moor  in  his  appearance.  This  man,  taking  a 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  129 

couple  of  barbs  with  shafts  but  a  few  inches  in 
length,  stood  in  the  way  of  the  approaching  bull, 
leaned  over  his  head  when  he  met  him,  neatly  fixed 
the  toy  weapons  in  the  brawny  shoulders  that  were 
bearing  down  upon  him,  and  stepped  aside  and  out 
of  harm's  way.  It  was  all  the  work  of  an  instant, 
and,  as  he  charged  the  empty  air,  the  bull  seemed 
as  much  amazed  as  the  lookers-on  were  pleased. 

When  it  was  time  for  the  scene  to  change,  eight 
stalwart  young  men,  in  plush  jackets  and  knee- 
breeches  of  buckskin,  sallied  forth  to  catch  the  bull. 
Theirs  was  the  crowning  glory  of  taking  the  bull  by 
the  horns.  As  they  approached  him,  the  most  ambi- 
tious nature  among  them  threw  down  his  gauntlet 
at  the  feet  of  the  foe.  It  was  not  really  his  gaunt- 
let, however,  but  his  long  hood  of  red  flannel,  which, 
after  covering  his  brows,  had  drooped  picturesquely 
down  upon  his  shoulders  behind.  In  this  ancient 
and  chivalrous  manner  he  bade  the  bull  defiance. 
And,  as  if  that  were  not  affront  enough,  he  spat  into 
the  animal's  face,  calling  him  opprobrious  epithets, 
which,  even  if  the  bull  did  not  understand,  the  au- 
dience did,  and  were  greatly  entertained.  Then  this 
rash  gladiator  howled,  flourished  his  arms  in  the 
air,  and  made  passes  as  if  to  seize  and  grapple  with 
the  enemy,  as  the  reader  may  have  seen  a  bad  boy 
defying  a  billy-goat  to  mortal  combat.  As  a  last  re- 
sort, he  stamped,  pawed  the  ground,  and  kicked  the 
dust  into  the  scared  eyes  before  him. 

This  was  quite  enough  for  the  bull,  hitherto  curi- 
ous as  to  the  meaning  of  so  much  scenic  display,  and 
with  his  nose  to  the  ground  he  charged  upon  the 


130  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

man,  who  dropped  his  body  between  its  horns,  throt- 
tling it  with  his  arms  about  its  neck  and  wedging  its 
nose  between  his  knees.  In  this  manner  he  thought 
to  secure  it;  but  he  was  disappointed.  The  bull 
lightly  lifted  the  man  from  the  ground,  and  easily 
tossed  him  over  its  shoulder  and  into  the  air,  where 
the  poor  fellow  turned  a  complete  somersault,  after 
which  he  came  down,  in  an  abject  state  of  limpness 
and  neglect,  into  the  dust  of  the  arena.  The  spec- 
tators had  neither  applause  nor  sympathy  to  waste 
on  him,  and  the  play  went  on. 

Another  bold  spirit  threw  himself  into  the  breach 
between  the  bull's  horns,  and  more  successfully. 
The  animal  tossed  him,  but  he  would  not  let  go,  and 
carrying  him,  like  a  gaudy  head-dress,  across  the 
ring,  it  pinned  him  against  the  opposite  wall.  But 
still  the  man  held  on,  wTith  pluck  and  tenacity  worthy 
of  a  better  cause,  until  his  friends  could  come  up. 
They  seized  the  beast  by  legs,  tail,  and  whatever 
points  of  vantage  there  were,  released  their  compan- 
ion, extracted  the  half-dozen  barbs  from  the  bull's 
neck  and  shoulders,  and  the  scene  was  at  an  end. 

The  tenacious  and  plucky  victor  was  now  happy. 
The  great  throng  of  people  shouted  their  praise, 
and  coupled  his  name  with  huzzas  and  acclamations. 
The  moresque  professional  embraced  him  proudly,  as 
if  prognosticating  a  glorious  career  before  him.  The 
orphans  on  the  free  list  decided  to  seek  fame  in  his 
footsteps,  and  for  the  time  "being  he  eclipsed  the  im- 
mortal George  Washington,  of  whom  they  had  heard 
in  an  indefinite  way.  The  judges  on  the  stand  hand- 
ed him  wreaths  and  coronets  of  flowers,  such  as  con- 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  131 

querors  wear,  and  were  only  too  happy  to  reach 
down  and  shake  him  by  the  hand.  A  party  of  swell 
young  men,  probably  members  of  his  club  or  of  his 
set  in  society,  lavishly  flung  into  the  ring  packages 
of  fine  cigars,  while  others,  who  had  no  cigars  to 
offer,  showed  their  good-will  by  hurling  their  polished 
silk  hats  into  the  deep  dust  and  turmoil  of  the  ring, 
recovering  them  banged  up  and  broken  beyond  all 
recognition. 

"  Such  is  glory,  for  which  you  and  I  and  all  of  us 
work,"  said  the  Naturalist. 

"  But  it  is  not  all  of  the  world  that  offers  such  in- 
centives as  a  package  of  good  cigars,"  replied  Rob- 
inson. "I  cannot  forget  those  cigars.  I  hope  this 
very  sensible  sort  of  testimonial  will  be  introduced 
in  the  States  before  I  come  home  to  take  the  lecture- 
platform." 

During  an  intermission,  a  squad  of  pages  entered, 
escorting  a  banner,  on  which,  in  large  letters,  the 
people  were  informed  that  alms  would  now  be  re- 
ceived for  the  victims  of  the  drought  in  the  province 
of  Ceara,  that  unfortunate  region  which  has  since 
been  so  terribly  afflicted  by  the  famine  which  follows 
drought,  and  by  the  pestilence  which  accompanies 
famine. 

4 '  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  chip  in  for  so  good  a 
cause,"  remarked  Kobinson,  "but  does  it  not  seem 
a  little  strange  that,  all  the  world  over,  the  ends  of 
benevolence  are  reached  through  means  of  torture  ? 
Think  of  it  at  home,  Stacy,  where  you  ladies  lead 
your  husbands  and  lovers  through  all  the  worry  and 
hard  work  of  a  night  at  the  ball  for  sweet  charity's 


132  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

sake;  or  else  you  entice  them  into  a  church  fair, 
with  refreshments,  where  the  agony  of  having  ten 
dollars  extracted  from  one's  pocket  is  prolonged 
throughout  the  entire  evening  of  entertainment,  so 
called." 

Four  strong  men  carried  the  contribution-box, 
which  was  a  blanket  firmly  held  at  the  four  corners. 
Into  this,  and  on  the  ground  thereabout,  the  money 
rained  liberally.  From  the  remotest  tiers  of  benches 
it  came,  in  the  shape  of  bank-bills  wrapped  around 
the  heavy  nickel  coin  of  the  country,  which  ballasted 
the  paper  in  its  flight  through  the  air.  So  profusely 
did  it  fall  that  our  friends  entertained  apprehensions 
that  these  alms-gatherers  would  suffer  the  fate  of  the 
Roman  girl  Tarpeia,  who,  asking  for  jewels,  was 
pelted  to  death  with  them.  And  as  the  blanket, 
having  made  the  circuit  of  the  ring,  passed  out,  it 
was  easy  to  see,  from  the  manner  in  which  it  sagged 
in  the  centre,  that  the  collection  was  a  heavy  one. 

The  sun  was  getting  low.  The  supernumeraries 
were  driving  the  last  exhausted  bull  back  into  the 
den  from  whence  he  came.  To  decoy  him  into 
these  suspicious  depths,  a  quartette  of  old  and 
feeble  oxen  were  introduced.  As  they  passed  the 
confines  of  the  ring,  entering,  some  person  standing 
there  sunk  a  spear-head  into  the  rump  of  one  of 
them,  where  its  decorated  shaft  waved  in  the  air 
like  the  hilt  of  an  Indian  arrow.  The  ox,  thinking 
himself  persecuted  by  some  new  and  gigantic  species 
of  gadfly,  went  through  a  series  of  clumsy  and  an- 
tiquated contortions  in  his  efforts  to  brush  it  away. 
The  people  laughed  delightedly,  and  the  perpetrator 


AFTERNOON  SERVICE.  133 

of  this  cowardly  piece  of  pleasantry  was  hailed  as  a 
rare  practical  joker. 

"This  little  incident  of  by-play,"  said  the  Natu- 
ralist, "  truthfully  illustrates  the  spirit  of  the  bull- 
ring, and  those  who  patronize  it." 

"  It  is  cruelty  itself,"  said  Stacy.  "  I  never  want 
to  go  to  another.  And  there  wasn't  a  man  hurt 
after  all." 

''Cruel?  yes,"  replied  Robinson.  "But  are  not 
all  of  our  sports  more  or  less  cruel  ?  As  has  been 
said,  '  It  is  an  instinct  deep  in  the  heart  of  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  to  kill  something.'  The  angler  mangles  first 
the  worm  and  then  the  fish ;  yet  it  is  one  of  our  child- 
hood's sayings  that  Peter  went  a  fishing.  For  every 
wild  deer  that  is  .captured  by  your  clergyman  up  in 
the  Adirondacks,  Stacy,  one  or  two  or  three  are 
wounded,  and  escape  to  die  a  slow  death  of  thirst 
and  pain  in  the  wilderness.  And  for  every  duck  or 
quail  that  the  shot-gun  kills,  others  with  broken 
wing  creep  into  the  thicket,  or  with  maimed  bodies 
fly  away.  Ah !  Stacy,  Stacy !  we  all  have  more  or 
less  need  of  the  missionary. 


XII. 
PLACE  AUX  DAMES. 

Women  are  like  precious  carved  works  of  ivory;  nothing  is 
whiter  and  smoother,  and  nothing  sooner  grows  yellow.  —  JEAN 
PAUL. 


were  at  dinner.  Robinson  fingered  his 
-L  glass  of  wine  thoughtfully  for  a  few  moments, 
and  said  : 

"If  I  might  presume  to  offer  a  few  words  of  sen- 
timent?" 

Permission  was  duly  granted. 

4  'Well,  then,  I  propose  the  old  ladies  of  America, 
our  mothers  and  grandmothers  at  home.  God  bless 
them,  the  world  can't  show  their  equal  elsewhere. 
The  children  may  be  sunburnt  romps  and  the  young 
ladies  may  be  impertinent  and  shallow"  —here  the 
orator  looked  hard  at  Stacy  —  "but  as  they  grow 
old  they  grow  altogether  noble  and  lovely  ;  if  I 
were  certain  that  my  wife  would  hurry  up  and  grow 
old,  I  think  I  would  get  married  immediately.  I 
would  go  a  hundred  miles  to-night  to  see  one  of 
those  fair,  kind,  tranquil,  Martha  Washington  faces 
again  ;  and  I  would  rather  pay  my  respects  to  one 
of  my  old  lady  acquaintances  in  ISfew  York  than  to 
kiss  the  hand  of  a  dowager  queen.  They  are  better 
than  queens  and  duchesses,  and  their  silver  hair  is 
more  to  be  respected  than  the  finest  metal  crown 

134 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  135 

that  woman  ever  wore.     Here's  to  the  old  ladies  of 
America  !" 

u  Bravo  !  Good  for  you,  Rob  !  "  cried  the  Colonel. 
"I  declare  it  makes  me  homesick  to  hear  you  talk 
that  way.  Stacy,  let  me  know  when  you  write  to 
your  mother,  will  you  ?  " 

"I  don't  like  old  women,  or  old  men  either,"  said 
Chester.  "They  are  so  egoistical." 

He  was  about  to  continue,  but  the  Colonel  gave 
him  a  severe  look  and  discouraged  him. 

"He  must  have  been  taking  too  much  wine," 
whispered  Stacy  to  her  father.  "I  never  heard 
him  talk  that  way  before." 

"No,  'pon  my  word,  Stacy ;  I  never  was  more 
sober  in  my  life." 

"Then  do  tell  us  what  is  the  matter  with  you." 

"It  all  comes  from  going  to  the  opera.  You 
didn't  see  what  I  saw  last  night.  From  where  I 
sat  I  had  full  view  into  the  depths  of  a  box  in  the 
tier  under  us  and  a  little  farther  around  the  circle. 
And  what  do  you  think  I  saw  ?  " 

"A  flirtation." 

"No,  worse  than  that.  There  was  a  young  lady 
there  who,  under  the  illusion  of  distance,  gas-light, 
and  an  opera-glass,  had  impressed  me  as  very  beau- 
tiful. But,  alas,  her  beauty,  like  the  beauty  of  so 
many  things  down  here,  was  not  ingrain,  but  super- 
ficial. In  one  of  the  entr'actes  I  saw  her  look  into 
the  handle  of  her  fan.  There  was  a  mirror  there. 
I  know  it,  because  it  flashed  the  light  in  my  eyes 
once,  and  nearly  blinded  me." 

"Did  you  ever  read  the  story  of  Lady  Godiva 


136  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

and  Peeping  Tom,  or  hear  of  the  sad  fate  of 
Actseon?  "  asked  Stacy,  innocently. 

"Have  done  with  your  classical  conundrums. 
As  I  was  saying,  she  looked  into  the  mirror  and 
then  drew  from  somewhere  a  stick  of  something 
or  some  other  apparatus — " 

"That's  rather  indefinite,  but  then  we  can't  ask 
you  to  commit  yourself,"  interrupted  Stacy. 

" —  and  commenced  dabbing  her  face  with  it  and 
polishing  it  down,  like  a  plasterer  repairing  a  ceil- 
ing. I  was  horrified,  and  I  thought  to  myself,  If 
this  frail  creature  has  to  patch  up  between  the  acts 
of  an  opera,  how — "  he  gasped — "would  she  look 
—  by  to-morrow  —  morning  ?  " 

As  Stacy  did  not  seem  duly  shocked  by  this  reve- 
lation of  feminine  weakness,  Robinson  prepared  to 
tell  another. 

"If  it's  as  painful  as  the  last,"  said  Chester,  with 
emotion,  "  handkerchiefs  for  four !"  And  the  boy 
applied  his  napkin  to  his  eyes. 

' '  I  was  in  the  Passeio  Publico  again  this  after- 
noon, listening  to  some  bits  of  'Martha'  from  the 
German  band,  and  I  happened  to  be  sitting  by  the 
side  of  a  young  lady." 

"Yes?"  from  Stacy,  in  a  tone  that  indicated  that 
she  thought  more  than  she  said. 

"Oh,  I  sat  down  there  first,  and  then  she  came 
along  with  an  old  woman  as  homely  as  sin,  and 
they  took  seats  on  the  same  bench.  I  turned  to  look 
at  her,  to  see  if  she  had  room  enough.  She  was  not 
more  than  fifteen  years  old,  but  she  had  all  the 
graces  of  a  woman  of  twenty,  with  a  rich  brown 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  137 

complexion  that  reminded  me  of  the  shady  side  of  a 
peach." 

"Did  it  look  good  enough  to  bite?"  asked  Ches- 
ter. "  Oh,  peaches  and  cream  !  Don't  I  wish  I  had 
been  there!" 

uThe  young  lady  seemed  agitated  at  the  idea  of 
being  an  object  of  interest  to  so  illustrious  a  foreign- 
er, and  she  fluttered  around  upon  the  bench  as  if  she 
didn't  hardly  know  what  to  do  with  herself.  Final- 
ly, as  a  relief  from  her  embarrassment,  she  dived  her 
hand  into  her  apron-pocket  for  her  handkerchief.  I 
have  always  noticed  that  a  handkerchief  is  an  un- 
failing remedy  in  circumstances  like  these.  As  she 
withdrew  it  something  came  along.  It  dropped  out 
of  the  handkerchief  and  fell  to  the  ground.  I  don't 
know  what  it  was,  but  it  looked  very  much  like  a 
head  of  thistle-down. 

"My  first  impulse  was  to  do  the  polite  thing  and 
pick  it  up  for  her,  but  then,  with  that  rare  presence 
of  mind  which  never  deserts  me  in  the  hour  of 
emergency,  I  reflected  that  perhaps  I'd  better  not ; 
perhaps  the  young  lady  would  be  just  as  much 
obliged  to  me  if  I  looked  the  other  way  for  a  mo- 
ment. So  I  appeared  to  be  lost  in  contemplation  of 
the  beauties  of  nature,  and  kept  only  the  corner  of 
an  eye  upon  the  girl.  "With  a  hasty  movement  she 
scooped  the  thistle-head  up  from  the  ground,  and 
blushed  like  the  red,  red  rose.  Then  with  two  more 
lightning  motions  she  swept  the  mysterious  article 
down  each  cheek,  and  wiped  the  blush  off  as  effectu- 
ally as  if  this  tuft  of  down  had  been  a  patent  paint 
extractor,  and  when  she  turned  to  me  again  she 


138  •       ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

had  a  raillery  expression  of  countenance  that  was 
not  at  all  inviting.  All  of  the  peach  was  gone.  Oh, 
it  is  sad  to  see  a  whole  nation  disguising  its  beauty 
in  this  manner.  If  anything  could  have  been  more 
pleasing  than  the  healthy  brunette  of  this  Morenin- 
ka,  it  was  that  same  brown  with  its  tinge  of  red 
blush ;  if  there  is  anything  better  than  the  shady 
side  of  a  peach,  it  is  the  other  side,  where  the  sun 
has  touched  it." 

"  We  are  ready  for  the  moral,"  said  Stacy. 

"The  moral  is  to  eschew  cosmetics.  Don't  you 
see  how  the  women  of  Brazil  are  ruining  their  faces 
with  too  much  plaster  and  powder  and  drugs,  and 
how  black  and  coarse  and  rough  they  are?  Then 
think  of  the  soft  and  well  preserved  complexions  of 
our  matrons  at  home.  I'll  warrant  they  didn't  carry 
mirrors  in  their  fans  and  thistle-down  in  their  pock- 
ets when  they  were  girls." 

"  Oh  !  didn't  they?"  said  Stacy,  innocently,  and 
speaking  as  if  the  subject  was  a  strange  one  to  her. 

"I  trust  and  believe  not,"  continued  Robinson. 
"But  you  needn't  smile.  I'm  not  so  green  as  you 
think.  I  know  that  you  girls  of  the  present  genera- 
tion dust  yourselves  up  well,  and  so  I  have  my  fears 
for  the  future  of  the  great  republic.  I  haven't  been 
to  balls  and  had  the  shoulder  of  my  dress-coat  all 
whitened  up  without  knowing  the  reason  why.  But 
I  am  grateful  to  know  that  you  do  not  yet  put  it  on 
so  thick  that  it  drifts  into  the  dimples  of  your  chin 
and  the  creases  of  your  neck,  as  the  belles  do  down 
here,  and  that  you  can  make  one  application  last 
you  an  evening,  without  being  obliged  to  stop  for 
repairs." 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  139 

"Pauline,  get  up  and  make  a  little  bow,"  said 
Stacy.  "  The  ladies  of  this  table  are  being  compli- 
mented." 

"  That  reminds  me,"  added  Robinson.  "Another 
proof  of  the  evil  effects  of  their  rice-powder  and 
lotions  is  seen  in  the  gradual  decay  of  feminine 
beauty  which  begins  at  the  nursery.  The  children 
are  beautiful,  there  is  no  denying  that,  but  it  is  on 
the  younger  side  of  ten  years  that  they  are  at  their 
prettiest.  Who  ever  saw  anything  more  lovely  than 
a  little  girl  of  the  better  classes  here  ?  She  has  a  com- 
plexion as  faultless  and  clear  as  obsidian,  large,  lus- 
trous eyes,  and  always  a  clean  face,  a  lady-like  be- 
havior, and  a  tidy  dress.  Why,  if  Paul  here  only 
had  black  hair  she  would  hardly  be  noticed  in  Brazil. 
But  as  the  girl  grows  old  she  grows  homely.  At 
twenty  she  will  not  bear  close  inspection ;  and  at 
forty,  catch  her  unawares,  and  her  face  looks  as 
though  she  had  assisted  at  a  powder  explosion.  Now, 
whose  fault  is  this  ?  Nature  did  her  work  well ; 
therefore  they  must  be  responsible  for  their  own 
fading." 

"  I  know  one  individual  who  has  managed  to  hold 
her  own  pretty  well  until  she  is  twelve  years  old  or 
thereabouts,"  said  Chester. 

''  You  mean  your  Juliet  of  the  orange  trees?" 
asked  Robinson.  "Yes,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
she  does  preserve  the  freshness  of  youth  pretty 
well." 

''Her  name  isn't  Juliet;  it's  Balbinda.  I  say, 
Rob,  you've  been  to  college;  does  '  window '  rhyme 
all  right  with  c  Balbinda  ? '  " 


140  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  Oh,  my  boy,  is  it  as  bad  as  that  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Chester,  with  importance.  "I 
don't  deny  that  I  am  writing  her  a  valentine.  Per- 
haps you  may  have  noticed  that  I  don't  eat  much 
lately." 

"Pardon  us  ;  we  had  not  noticed  it,"  said  Stacy. 

"  Since  the  old  gent  interviewed  me  so  suddenly 
under  her  window,  I  have  been  obliged  to  write  my 
compliments." 

"How  was  that?" 

"  He  only  took  about  three  steps  across  the  street 
and  came  down  on  me  before  I  could  get  around  the 
corner.  'Young  man,'  says  he,  'what's  your  inten- 
tions?'  '  Honorable,'  says  I,  bracing  up;  '  what's 
yours  ? '  '  If  I  see  you  around  here  any  more, ' 
says  he,  '  I  intend  to  nail  up  the  blinds  and  keep 
my  girl  in  the  back  parlor.'  ^Esty  beng  l>ong^  says 
I,  which  means  'That's  a  good  scheme.'  'And 
then,'  says  he,  'I  shall  send  word  around  to  the 
English  Minister  to  have  you  transferred  to  another 
station.'  He  thought  I  was  a  member  of  the  British 
Legation." 

"  Chester,"  said  Stacy,  in  an  awful  voice,  "  I  don't 
believe  a  word  that  you  are  saying. ' ' 

"That's  what  I'm  going  to  say,  anyway,  if  the 
old  fellow  does  come  down  on  me.  I've  got  it  all 
made  up  beforehand.  They  say  they  do  ask  a  man's 
intentions  here  the  first  time  he  looks  at  a  girl." 

"I  don't  like  to  appear  to  be  meddling  in  my 
family's  intimate  affairs,"  observed  the  Colonel, 
"but  I  would  like  to  know  what  is  the  reason  that 


PLAGE  AUX  DAMES. 


my  son  keeps  his  hair  combed  nowadays  and  puts  on 
a  clean  collar  for  dinner." 

"  It's  a  young  lady  of  twelve  over  here,"  said  Rob- 
inson, "  who  divides  her  attentions  between  him  and 
her  doll,  sadly,  I  fear,  to  the  neglect  of  her  parents 
and  piano-lesson.  I  have  seen  her.  I  never  could 
understand  before  how  Romeo's  Juliet  could  have 
been  but  fourteen  years  of  age.  I  understand  it  now. 
We  went  down  the  Street  of  the  Orange  Trees  yes- 
terday, and  Chester's  Balbinda  was  dandling  a  wax 
doll  on  the  window-sill  as  we  approached.  But 
when  she  caught  sight  of  this  boy  she  forgot  the 
doll  entirely  and  opened  the  most  flagrant  flirtation 
with  him.  I  cannot  imagine  a  more  incongruous 
spectacle  than  this.  Her  hand,  drooping  down  from 
the  window,  still  grappled  by  one  heel  the  unhappy 
waxen  image,  which  was  dangling  head  foremost, 
and  with  its  flounces  all  down  under  its  arms.  Mean- 
while her  lips  were  curving  in  the  pleasantest  of 
smiles  for  this  beggar  of  ours,  and  the  way  those 
velvet  eyes  of  hers  made  signs  to  him  almost  made 
me  envy  him,  and  I  don't  care  much  for  those  things 
either.  It  was  as  if  she  were  pelting  him  with  rose- 
petals.  It  was  Juliet  in  all  of  her  precocity,  her 
wealth  of  affection,  and  her  premature  womanhood 
of  form  and  nature.  She  must  have  something  to 
love,  and  the  doll  answered  very  well  until  Ches- 
ter came  along.  Take  an  American  girl  of  the 
same  age;  she  is  lank,  homely,  undeveloped,  climbs 
fences,  goes  in  swimming,  and  hates  the  boys  as 
she  does  the  multiplication  table." 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  American  torn- 


142  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

boy  is  going  to  turn  out  better  than  Chester's  Bal- 
binda?  "  asked  the  Colonel. 

"  I  do.  For  these  reasons  :  These  are  Balbinda's 
brightest  days.  Henceforward  her  life  will  be 
largely  made  up  of  dissatisfaction  and  disappoint- 
ment. About  at  this  age  she  begins  to  grow 
anxious 

'  —  to  be  possessed  of  double  pomp, 
To  guard  a  title  that  was  rich  before, 
To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily, 
To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet,' 

and  ruins  her  face  with  applications  of  purpurine, 
veloutine,  camellia  cream,  and  so  forth.  By  this 
time  also  she  has  probably  finished  her  superficial 
little  education  of  French  and  piano,  and  her  intel- 
lect is  laid  by  to  rest.  Some  of  these  days  a  husband 
will  come  to  rescue  her  from  her  prison-home ;  but 
since  they  marry  on  a  very  short  acquaintance  and 
no  courtship  at  all,  the  alliance  resting  principally 
upon  a  business  basis,  they  will  soon  find  out  that 
they  do  not  like  each  other  as  much  as  they  thought 
they  did.  He  will  neglect  her,  leave  her  at  home 
while  he  goes  abroad,  and  in  other  ways  maltreat 
her,  and  she  will  nurse  her  grievances  until  the  hard 
lines  form  around  her  mouth  and  all  of  the  kind 
expression  dies  out  of  her  face." 

"  What  a  picture!  "  said  Stacy,  shuddering.  "I'm 
so  glad  I'm  an  American.  It's  such  a  relief  to  find 
out  that  you  don't  like  a  man  before  you  get  married 
to  him." 

"We'll  take  you  as  a  type  of  the  American  girl, 
Stacy,  as  Balbinda  was  of  the  Brazilian,  and  cast 


PLACE  AUX  DAMES.  143 

your  horoscope.  Now  you  will  probably  marry 
some  man  whom  you  adore " 

Stacy  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"The  prospects  are  very  few  yet." 

"  You  will  always  have  a  happy  home,  and  that  is 
the  best  preservative  of  all  for  a  woman's  beauty. 
You  will  never  finish  your  education,  but  will  con- 
tinue to  read  and  study  and  think,  and  that  will  keep 
your  intellect  sprightly.  And  you  have  the  best 
form  of  religion  in  the  world,  which,  besides  giving 
you  something  good  to  think  about,  is  constantly 
leading  you  into  some  benevolent  good  Samaritan 
business  and  keeping  your  sympathies  aroused. 
Why,  Stacy,  as  I  see  you,  in  the  distant  future,  you 
are  such  a  beautiful  and  benign  old  lady  that  I  can 
hardly  believe  it  is  yourself.  Allow  me  to  renew 
my  sentiment.  Here's  to  Stacy  Smith  —  as  she  will 
be  thirty  or  forty  years  from  now." 

"  Tiger— r  —  r!     Make  it  fifty  !  "  cried  Chester. 


XIII. 
THE  STREET  OF  THE  ORANGE  TREES. 

0  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad, 
O  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad ; 
Tho'  father  and  mither  and  a'  should  gae  mad, 
0  whistle,  and  I'll  come  to  you,  my  lad. 

— BURNS. 

IT  may  be  wondered  how  Chester  learned  that  his 
maid  of  the  Orange  Trees  was  named  JBalbinda. 
It  happened  in  this  wise : 

It  was  the  lad's  custom  to  take  frequent  walks 
about  the  city,  and  when  that  useful  functionary, 
Bemvindo,  was  available,  he  would  borrow  him  as 
a  guide  and  cicerone. 

On  one  of  these  excursions  they  went  up  the 
Street  of  the  Orange  Trees.  It  was  afternoon,  and 
Chester  knew  that  a  certain  window  would  be  in  the 
shade  at  this  hour,  and  felt  almost  equally  confident 
that  a  certain  young  lady  would  be  in  the  win,dow. 

He  was  not  mistaken.  She  was  there,  in  her  pink 
and  white  apparel,  prettier  than  ever,  and,  as  he 
approached,  the  pink  of  her  jacket  seemed  to  cast  a 
deeper  tinge  upon  her  peachy  cheeks.  Entirely  over- 
looking the  trim  and  graceful  Bemvindo,  she  smiled 
upon  the  blonde  Chester  alone. 

He  now  felt  that  the  hour  had  come. 

" Bemvindo!"  he  said,  "come  over  on  this  side. 
Now,  when  we  go  under  the  window,  say  something 
nice  for  me.  Tell  her  I  like  her." 

144 


THE  STREET  OF  THE  ORANGE  TREES.       145 

"  Yer'  good,"  replied  Bemvindo;  and  when  he 
was  so  close  that  her  drooping  hand  almost  brushed 
his  shoulder,  he  addressed  her. 

"  Vd  aprender  a  coser  !  "     (Go  and  learn  to  sew.) 

^Acho  bom,"  she  replied,  carrying  her  head  saucily 
and  pouting  her  lips  into  a  delicious  little  rosebud. 

"What  did  she  say  ?  "  eagerly  whispered  Chester, 
the  moment  they  were  past. 

"  She  say  —  she  fin'  it  ver'  good.  She  like-a  that. 
Firs'-class.  Bully." 

"You  're  a  brick,  Beng!  Come  and  take  some 
cream  somewhere." 

After  Chester  had  cooled  himself  down  to  business 
temperature,  he  suggested  a  return  by  the  same  route. 

"Now,  Bemvindo,  ask  her  what  her  name  is," 
said  he.  "  If  I  am  going  to  write  to  her,  I  must  know 
how  to  address  my  letters." 

His  friend  obeyed. 

"Como—" 

But  he  was  interrupted  by  a  shrill  voice  from 
within : 

4 '  Balbinda, !  Vem  ca  !  Sake  desta  maldita  ja- 
netta!" 

"  Hark  from  the  tombs !  "  said  Chester.  "  What 
a  mother-in-law  she  will  make  !  It  's  time  to  go 
home  !  Come  !  " 

"Her  name  —  ees  Balbinda,"  said  Bemvindo, 
when  they  were  safely  around  the  corner. 

' '  Yes,  I  had  a  sort  of  an  idea  it  was.  And  what 
else  did  the  old  lady  say?  " 

"She  say,  'Balbinda!     Come-a  here!     Go  from 
ze ' —  ah  —  como  se  diz  'maldita '  f  " 
10 


146  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  Make  it  '  damn,'  "  said  Chester.  "  It's  a  word 
sometimes  used  in  the  States." 

"  Yer'  good.  She  say,  i  Go  from  ze  damn  win- 
dow.'" 

"  Let's  sit  down  here,"  said  Chester,  as  they 
came  to  the  inviting  shade  of  a  mango-tree. 

A  stone  bench  was  there.  The  boys  seated  them- 
selves, and  Chester,  producing  a  lead  pencil  and  a 
scrap  of  paper,  began  chewing  the  end  of  the  former 
in  the  abstraction  of  one  who  is  exercising  his  brain 
in  search  of  poetic  thought. 

"See  here,  Beng,"  he  said,  in  despair,  "do  you 
know  anything  about  writing  poetry  ?  " 

Bemvindo  modestly  replied  that  his  education  had 
been  neglected. 

"I  thought  all  you  Brazilians  made  verses." 

Bemvindo  offered  himself  in  contradiction  to  that 
popular  opinion. 

"  But,  any  way,  you  can  tell  me  a  good  rhyme  for 
Balbinda,  can't  you  ?  " 

Bemvindo  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  the  word 
"rhyme." 

"What  word  sounds  like  'Balbinda'?  What 
word  would  look  well  with  it  ? " 

"I  sink  'Bemvindo'  ees  a  good  word,"  suggested 
the  artless  and  illiterate  youth. 

"  Oh,  get  out !  I  suspect  you  are  trying  to  play  a 
joke  on  me,  Beng.  Now,  think.  There's  'binda,' 
<  dinda, '  '  finda, '  <  flinda, '  '  hinda, '  '  linda, '—  " 

"I  sink  'linda'  ees  a  good  word,"  said  his  col- 
laborator. 

"What  does  it  mean?" 


THE  STREET  OF  THE  ORANGE  TREES.       147 

"It  means  l  pretty ',  like-a  Mees  Stacy.  She  ees 
muita  linda" 

"Just  what  I  want,  exactly.  Now,  here  goes." 
And  in  the  frenzy  of  success  the  boy  began  to  write: 

My  linda 

Balbinda, 
Come  back  to  the  window. 

Your  Chester 

Can't  rest,  or 
Can't  sleep  — 

"But  I  say,  Beng,  this  is  English,  and  of  course 
she  can't  read  English." 

This  youth  of  fertile  resource  thought  it  would  be 
a  good  plan  to  send  a  dictionary  along  with  the 
note. 

"No,"  said  Chester,  "that  wouldn't  be  the  proper 
idea  at  all.  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing." 

Then,  he  suggested,  she  might  get  her  mother  to 
read  it  for  her. 

"No,  no,  we  don't  want  any  mothers  in  this  busi- 
ness." 

Her  father,  then. 

"Worse,  and  more  of  it.  I  guess  I'll  have  to  give 
it  up  for  to-day,  Bemvindo.  I'll  wait  a  week  or  two 
and  write  it  in  Portuguese.  We'll  go  home,  now. 
Stop  that  car,  Beng." 

Bemvindo  hailed  the  passing  street-car. 

"  P-s-s-s-sio!  "  he  said. 

The  driver  understood  him  and  reined  up. 

"Bemvindo,  how  did  you  make  that  noise?" 
asked  Chester.  "I  want  to  learn  it." 

But  Bemvindo  did  not  know.     Almost  any  boy 


148  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

can  whistle,  but  very  few  boys  can  tell  how  they 
do  it. 

Chester  became  quiet  and  observant.  Here  he 
was  with  a  sturdy  determination  to  master  the  Portu- 
guese language,  and  found  himself  unable  to  use 
one  of  the  commonest  expressions  occurring  in  it. 
He  noticed  that  when  any  one  wished  to  get  on  the 
car  he  shot  this  snaky  sibilation  at  the  driver,  and 
when  he  would  alight  the  passenger  held  up  a  finger 
and  made  the  same  remark  to  the  conductor.  He 
noticed  also  that  by  different  persons  this  ejacula- 
tion was  modulated  differently,  and  even  fancied 
that  he  could  detect  signs  of  character  in  its  various 
inflections.  The  fat  old  women  gave  it  a  moist  and 
unctuous  effusion  ;  with  the  young  and  pretty  girls 
it  sounded  like  a  reversed  kiss  ;  the  swell  young  men 
said  Pst !  like  the  flash  of  a  fire-work  ;  and  the 
nervous  men  of  business  expressed  their  wishes  in 
a  dry  and  authoritative  C-h-h-h  ! 

Our  young  student  left  the  car  and  walked  the 
streets  in  deep  thoughtfulness.  Forgetting  all  about 
his  Balbinda,  he  was  now  determined  to  master  this 
morsel  of  dialect  if  it  took  all  the  afternoon,  so  as  to 
have  material  for  the  astonishment  of  his  folks  on 
his  return  to  the  hotel.  As  he  walked  he  practised 
what  he  had  learned,  inflicting  it  on  the  dogs  and 
doce-boys,  but  did  not  feel  complimented  in  observ- 
ing that  the  former  fled  from  him,  while  the  latter 
laughed  at  him.  Evidently  he  had  not  yet  acquired 
the  polished  accent  of  the  court. 

A  young  gentleman  was  leaning  languidly  over  the 
balustrade  of  a  window  across  the  way.  He  wished 


THE  STREET  OF  THE  ORANGE  TREES.       149 

to  attract  the  attention  of  a  friend  whom  he  saw 
standing  on  the  street-corner  opposite.  Under  these 
circumstances,  you,  or  I,  or  Chester,  dear  reader,  un- 
polished as  we  are,  would'  have  naturally  called 
out,  "  I  say,  Perkins,  look  up  here  !  "  or  "  Hi,  there, 
you  man  with  the  gig-lamp  spectacles  !  "  But  he 
did  otherwise.  He  pursed  his  lips  and  through  his 
teeth  produced  the  sound, — 

"  Ch-hrh-h!" 

The  driver  of  the  passing  tilbury,  thinking  that  a 
fare  awaited  him,  slacked  his  speed. 

"  Ch-h-h-h!" 

The  huckster  woman  who  was  tying  her  shoe  on 
the  curb-stone  thought  that  some  one  wanted  an 
orange,  and  turned  her  head. 

"  Ch-h-h-h-h!" 

The  newsboy,  thinking  he  recognized  a  call  for  the 
"  Jornal,"  revolved  once  around  on  his  heel. 

"  Oh-h-h-h-h-h  !  " 

A  thievish  billy-goat,  apprehending  that  retribu- 
tion was  hard  after  him,  scampered  down  the  street. 

"  Gh-h-h-h-h-h  !     Ch !     Oh !  " 

Then  his  friend  looked  up,  and  the  usual  compli- 
ments of  the  morning  passed  between  them. 

Chester  marvelled  greatly  that  so  much  time  and 
breath  should  be  wasted  for  an  object  that  could  be 
gained  more  easily  by  a  direct  form  of  speech,  but 
since  it  was  the  custom  of  the  country  it  was  his  duty 
to  learn  it  and  ask  no  questions;  and  when  he  again 
found  himself  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  he  flattered 
himself  that  he  was  proficient  in  this  aspirated  whis- 


150  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

tie,  which  is  as  truly  a  national  characteristic  as  the 
u  of  the  French  or  the  j  of  the  Spaniards. 

He  was  not  slow  to  display  this  linguistic  acquire- 
ment. Leaning  out  of  the  window,  he  waited  until 
the  orange-  worn  an  came  along,  and  then  called  out: 

"  S-s-s-shoo  !" 

The  customary  dog  wrapped  his  tail  around  his 
hind-leg  and  scudded  down  the  street.  The  orange- 
wench  looked  up,  very  much  astonished  and  some- 
what alarmed,  and  quickened  her  pace. 

It  was  an  ignominious  failure. 

u  Chester,"  said  Stacy,  reprovingly,  "  what  do  you 
mean?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  care.  It's  a  part  of  the  language," 
said  the  boy. 

uYou  haven't  the  accent,  Chester,"  said  Robin- 
son. "No  wonder  your  sister  is  dismayed  by  such 
a  barbarous  mutilation  of  language.  Let  me  show 
you.  You  see,  Stacy,  it  is  not  considered  the  thing 
to  whistle  for  a  boot-black,  or  call  out  to  a  friend,  or 
clink  your  glass  for  a  waiter,  in  Rio.  If  a  fellow 
wants  anybody  or  anything  he  twists  his  vocal  or- 
gans out  of  shape  and  says: 


. 

uOh  get  "out,"  cried  Chester.  "That  isn't  the 
way  at  all.  You  have  been  taking  lessons  from  a 
soda  fountain,  Rob.  Let's  get  Mr.  Kingston  to 
show  us." 

That  gentleman  could  readily  tell  how  the  sound 
was  made.  It  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the 
upper  half  of  a  sneeze.  But  when  he  came  to  illus- 
trate his  teachings  he  could  produce  nothing  better 
than  — 


THE  STREET  OF  THE  ORANGE  TREES.      151 


In  spite  of  his  long  residence  here,  his  foreign 
birth  revealed  itself  in.  that  abortive  attempt. 

'  '  But  how  do  you  manage  to  call  the  right  per- 
son ?"  asked  Chester. 

44  You  don't.  To  emit  this  sibilant  summons  in 
the  hearing  of  a  number  of  persons  is  like  calling 
out  '  J  udge  !  '  in  a  congressional  lobby.  Everybody, 
or  at  least  everybody  but  the  right  one,  turns  his 
head  in  reply.  I  think  I  never  knew  but  one  Brazil- 
ian who  had  the  necessary  magnetic  powers  for 
throwing  this  sound  as  an  Indian  throws  an  arrow 
from  his  blow-gun,  so  as  to  hit  the  person  he  wanted 
without  disturbing  the  rest  of  the  community.  This 
man  could  stand  in  the  upper  tier  of  boxes  at  the 
theatre  and  call  the  attention  of  his  friend  in  the  or- 
chestra stalls  without  incommoding  any  of  his  neigh- 
bors." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  very  nice,"  said  Stacy. 

"It  is  so  funny,"  said  Pauline,  who  had  been  a 
quiet  listener.  '  '  I  call  my  kitten  in  the  same  way 
that  I  drive  it  away  at  home.  Look  ! 

<  <  Kitty  !     Ch-h-h  !     Ch-h-hh-  !  '  ' 

The  cat  came  running  to  her  in  response. 

"I  think  it  is  deuced  inconvenient,"  said  the 
Colonel.  "  A  man  must  have  the  neck  of  an  owl  to 
pay  attention  to  all  of  the  salutations  that  are  hissing 
through  the  air.  All  the  rifle-balls  at  Gettysburg 
were  not  half  as  trying  to  my  nerves.  As  for  me,  I 
am  tired  of  twisting  my  head  in  reply  to  the  washer- 
woman who  calls  her  child  in  out  of  the  sun,  or  to 


152  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

the  dandy  who  wants  his  shoes  polished  and  is  too 
nice  to  say  so  in  direct  language." 

"Still,"  mused  Chester,  "it  pays  to  learn  all 
these  things,  if  we're  going  to  show  the  folks  at 
home  that  we've  been  abroad.  I'm  getting  along 
pretty  well  myself.  I  can  pick  my  teeth  at  the  table, 
and  eat  with  my  knife  —  everything  except  soup  and 
peas  ;  they  bother  me  yet.  They  will  know  that  we 
have  been  farther  than  to  Paris." 

"Yes,"  replied  Kobinson.  "Like  as  not  they'll 
think  we  have  been  as  far  as  Missouri." 


XIY. 
THE  LAST  OF  THE  MEGATHERIUMS. 

The  mountain  wooded  to  the  peak,  the  lawns 
And  winding  glades  high  up  like  ways  to  heaven, 
The  slender  coco's  drooping  crown  of  plumes, 
The  lightning  flash  of  insect  and  of  bird, 
The  lustre  of  the  long  convolvuluses 
That  coiled  around  the  stately  palms  and  ran 
Ev'n  to  the  limit  of  the  land,  the  glows 
And  glories  of  the  broad  belt  of  the  world, 
All  these  he  saw. 

—TENNYSON. 

IT  is  a  pleasant  morning's  ride,  or,  for  stalwart 
legs,  a  healthy  walk,  to  Corcovado.  Half  walking 
and  half  riding,  the  Smith  family  and  Robinson, 
accompanied  by  the  Naturalist  as  expositor  and 
guide,  set  out  upon  this  pilgrimage  one  cool  and 
clear  day  shortly  after  their  arrival.  The  real  ascent 
of  the  mountain  begins  at  the  airy  Hotel  of  the 
Beautiful  Yiew,  where  a  couple  of  saddle-horses 
awaited  them.  One  of  these,  owing  to  certain  pecu- 
liarities of  accoutrement,  was  designed  exclusively 
for  the  use  of  Stacy  or  Pauline.  The  other  was  for 
him  whose- need  was  greatest;  this,  as  it  happened, 
was  Chester,  who  at  an  early  hour  fell  a  victim  to 
the  influence  of  the  climate,  as  he  politely  expressed 
it,  and  monopolized  the  saddle,  much  to  the  disaffec- 
tion of  the  Colonel,  who  puffed,  wiped  his  brow, 
realized  that  he  was  growing  old,  and  cast  envious 
eyes  upon  his  son's  repose.  Pauline  rode  behind 

153 


154:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Chester  and  tried  in  vain  to  compass  his  substantial 
waist  in  her  grasp.  As  for  Mr.  Kingston,  his  place, 
as  a  naturalist,  was  near  to  Nature's  heart,  that  is, 
on  the  ground  ;  it  were  indignity  to  offer  him  a  ride. 

From  the  hotel,  which  stands  like  an  outpost 
between  the  sky  and  the  sea,  between  the  forest  and 
the  city,  they  plunged  immediately  into  the  shade  of 
the  matted  woods.  A  graded  road,  easy  but  circui- 
tous, winds  leisurely  to  the  mountain-top.  Along 
its  edge  runs  the  city  aqueduct,  keeping  the  way  cool 
and  moist  in  the  hottest  days  of  the  year.  It  bears 
the  date  of  1744.  It  is  a  rare  piece  of  antiquarian 
masonry,  made  in  those  good  old  colony  times  ere 
work  was  done  by  contract.  At  frequent  intervals 
they  came  to  grated  windows  opening  into  the  mossy 
walls  of  this  old  water-way.  Here  and  there  was  an 
open  door  through  which  they  could  peer  into  its 
sepulchral  depths,  and,  peering,  see  a  vaulted  con- 
duit as  broad  and  high  as  a  street  of  the  catacombs, 
along  the  little  stone  trough  in  whose  floor  was 
trickling  the  thread  of  water  for  which,  in  times  of 
drought,  the  slaves  of  Rio  squabble  and  fight. 

"For  many  a  long  and  weary  year,"  said  Robin- 
son, ' '  I  have  been  looking  for  the  prettiest  spot  in 
the  world.  Here  it  is  before  us.  Dismount,  Stacy, 
and  walk  through  this  flower-garden.  See  how  you 
like  the  place.  If  it  meets  with  your  approval  I  will 
buy  it  for  you." 

It  was  the  reservoir  to  which  he  referred.  It  was 
a  little  pile  of  architecture  standing  in  a  recess  of 
the  hill,  but,  though  insignificant  in  size,  it  and  its 
surroundings  made  up  a  picture  that  was  superb  in 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  MEGATHERIUMS.   155 

its  beauty.  Before  it  was  a  plot  of  green,  with  par- 
terres of  flowers  in  colors  of  scarlet  and  flame. 
Overhead  the  solid  cliff  rose  hundreds  of  feet  into 
the  clouds,  from  somewhere  in  whose  lower  fringes 
a  filigree  stream  came  wavering  down  to  add  its 
slender  contribution  to  the  reservoir.  In  the  smooth 
facade  of  the  stone-work  the  builder  had  left  a  niche 
for  the  statue  of  somebody,  and,  what  enhanced  the 
beauty  of  the  scene,  this  niche  was  yet  vacant.  Some 
day  it  will  perhaps  be  filled,  and  the  charm  of  this 
place  will  be  frowned  away  by  the  efiigy  of  some 
little  great  man  of  the  city  below. 

As  they  resumed  their  tramp,  a  brilliant  butterfly 
loitered  along  in  the  air  above  them,  keeping  tanta- 
lizingly  just  beyond  the  Naturalist's  net.  Little 
green  paroquets  crossed  their  path,  flying  two-by- 
two,  as  their  ancestry  are  said  to  have  entered  the 
ark.  Around  them  was  the  mat  and  jungle  of  trop- 
ical growth,  whose  freshness  of  eternal  summer  was 
a  feast  for  their  cold  nor  them,  eyes.  They  saw  a 
verdure  which,  never  bleached  by  the  frosts  of  winter, 
is  not  discouraged  by  the  necessity  of  being  regu- 
larly deciduous,  nor  can  its  leaves  be  said  to  have 
any  time  in  particular  to  fall.  The  palms  grew  to 
the  mountain-top.  The  tree-fern  spread  its  kind 
shade  over  the  passers-by  and  brushed  their  brows 
with  airy  and  coquettish  touch.  With  his  net  the 
Naturalist  brought  down  a  bloody-red  passion-flower 
and  explained  the  holy  and  hidden  symbolism  which 
the  eye  of  the  devout  Catholic  finds  there.  Then, 
dealing  in  insect,  fruit,  and  flower,  he  beguiled  the 
way  with  the  peripatetic  discourse  of  a  summer-school 


156  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

professor,  who  is  companion  and  teacher,  equal  and 
superior,  all  in  the  same  breath. 

Chester,  who  was  ever  on  the  alert  for  the  reali- 
zation of  certain  pictures  in  his  geography,  expected 
at  every  turn  in  the  road  to  come  upon  an  anaconda 
coiled  around  a  tree-trunk,  but  was  gratified  with 
nothing  larger  than  an  insignificant  green  snake 
which  wound  itself  into  the  thicket  and  disappeared. 
Then  he  became  clamorous  for  monkeys.  If  he 
could  only  see  a  monkey  and  chase  it  into  a  cocoa- 
nut  tree  and  irritate  it  into  bombarding  him  with 
nuts,  as  they  treat  the  travellers  in  the  story-books, 
his  measure  of  happiness  would  be  complete.  But 
all  of  the  monkeys  being  in  retirement  at  that  hour, 
the  Naturalist  could  only  offer  the  boy  the  paltry 
satisfaction  of  a  "monkey  ladder."  It  was  a  rope 
of  twisted  fibres,  each  fibre  a  separate  vine,  which 
led  from  the  ground  to  the  lofty  branches  of  the  tree 
above.  This  monkey  ladder  swung  from  the  limbs  of 
a  "buttressed  tree,*'  whose  trunk,  solid  and  cylindri- 
cal at  twenty  or  thirty  feet  from  the  ground,  divided 
itself  into  flanges  or  buttresses  near  its  roots.  These 
flanges,  three  or  four  in  number,  and  radiating  from 
the  centre  like  the  septa  of  a  fruit,  were  almost  as 
thin  as  boards,  and,  indeed,  are  used  as  planks  at 
times  by  the  Indians,  to  whom  civilization  and  saw- 
mills have  not  yet  penetrated. 

Robinson  walked  once  around  this  tree  and  mused 
upon  it. 

"Every  day,"  he  said,  "  we  are  brought  to  realize 
more  and  more  that  a  kind  Providence  has  been 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  MEGATHERIUMS.   157 


doubly  kind  in  providing  for  the  wants  of  the  lazy 
inhabitants  of  these  tropics." 

"I  hardly  agree  with  you,"  said  the  Naturalist, 
"that  this  peculiar  arrangement  of  fibre  is  a  special 
dispensation  for  the  lazy  and  the  lumberless.  Is  it  not, 
instead,  for  the  benefit  of  the  tree  itself?  and  is  not 
this  trunk,  with  its  material  thus  thrown  out  in  but- 
tresses, stronger  and  better  able  to  stand  up  before 
the  storms  that  strike  it?  Has  not  the  engineer 
learned,  in  his  experiments  on  the  strength  of  mate- 
rials, that  almost  any  other  form  of  beam  is  better 
than  the  compactness  of  the  solid  cylinder,  such  as 
the  tree-trunk  usually  is  ?  Is  this  not,  in  short,  an- 
other illustration  of  mechanics  in  Nature  ? 

."Here,  Chester,"  he  continued,  "here  is  a  wild 
beast  of  the  equator  for  you !  Well,  we  are  fortu- 
nate, indeed.  We  might  go  to  Corcovado  a  hundred 
times  and  not  find  another  such  a  prize  as  this. 
Look  ahead  there,  on  the  upper  bank  of  the  road." 

The  boy  looked,  and  saw  an  object  which  at  first 
seemed  to  be  a  stump  of  a  tree,  of  a  whitish  color, 
which  could  not  be  hidden  in  the  dense  green  of  the 
overhanging  vegetation.  Then  it  developed  into  an 
animal  of  some  kind,  with  a  coat  of  a  pale  opossum 
gray.  It  supported  itself  against  the  steep  roadside 
by  one  extended  arm,  clutching  into  the  herbage  by 
means  of  long  claws,  stained  and  discolored,  and 
curved  like  miniature  elephant  tusks. 

"  There  it  is,  Chester, — the  sloth.  You  have  heard 
of  it  before.  Every  school-boy  has  the  sloth  and 
the  ant  held  up  before  him,  figuratively  speaking, 
once  in  a  while.  Come  near;  he  wont  hurt  you.  The 


158  SOUND  AS  OUT  RIO. 

beast  is  only  about  two  feet  long  now,  but  he  comes 
from  a  good  old  stock.  He  is  the  degenerate  de- 
scendant of  the  old  and  once  powerful  family  of  the 
megatheriums,  whose  ponderous  bodies  were  twenty 
feet  long  or  more.  Why  don't  you  come  up  and 
look  at  it,  good  folks?" 

"It's  dead,"  said  Chester.     "It  smells  bad." 
"Dead  ? — I  guess  so!  "  said  Robinson.     "It's  fall- 
ing to  pieces." 

At  this  point,  Stacy,  sharing  the  prevailing  delu- 
sion, applied  her  handkerchief  to  her  face;  and  the 
Colonel  lit  a  cigar. 

"Don't  turn  it  over!"  begged  Robinson  of  the 
Naturalist,  who  was  poking  it  with  a  stick. 
,   "There's  nothing  the  matter  with  it,"  he  replied. 
"A  little  slow,  that's  all;  but  that's  the  nature  of 
the  beast.     The  sloth  never  is  a  very  lively  subject, 
but  I  must  confess  that  this  is  the  first  time  in  all 
of  my  experience  that  I  have  met  one  whose  lazi- 
ness was  death-like  in  its  completeness." 
"And  it  isn't  dead?  "  asked  Stacy. 
"By  no  means.     It's  not  particularly  animated, 
to  be  sure;  but  still  it's  as  healthy  a  specimen  of  the 
sloth  as  you  will  find." 

"  It  must  be  badly  wounded,  then." 
"No,  no.     Come  forward  and  be  convinced." 
The  Naturalist,  fumbling  with  the  handle  of  his 
net,  managed  to  bring  to  light  its  three  hidden  legs, 
whose   absence,   as  they  were   curved   beneath   its 
body,  made  it  look  like  a  limbless  corpse.      Em- 
boldened by  example,  the  others  gathered  around  and 
punched  him  up  vigorously  with  their  umbrellas  and 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  MEGATHERIUMS.   159 

bamboo  canes.  As  if  in  protest  against  this  severe 
treatment,  the  animal  turned  his  eyes  reproachfully 
upon  them,  revolving  his  head  upon  his  neck  with 
the  slow  and  mechanical  precision  of  the  minute 
hand  of  a  clock. 

It  was  not  a  bad  countenance,  and  by  no  means 
.  disagreeable.  The  eyes  were  those  of  a  seal,  the 
face  was  flat  and  not  snouted,  and  this,  combined 
with  the  almost  entire  absence  of  tail,  made  it  seem 
more  akin  to  the  human  race  than  the  majority  of 
monkey  kind.  But  there  was  nothing  pert  or  smart 
about  him,  and  being  out  of  his  element  here  on  the 
ground  he  did  not  seem  to  have  his  wits  thoroughly 
about  him.  So  there  was  truth  in  Robinson's  obser- 
vation that,  if  human,  he  would  probably  make  a 
better  philosopher  than  an  auctioneer.  Anon,  as 
his  persecutors  continued  to  poke  him,  he  seemed  to 
change  into  a  great  lumbering  hulk  of  a  school-boy, 
who,  being  pestered,  begs,  sulks,  and  threatens  to 
tell  the  teacher. 

A  final  thrust  turned  him  over  on  his  back.  There 
he  still  hung,  suspended  by  one  paw,  whose  hold,  it 
was  seen,  was  slowly  weakening.  His  other  three 
legs  dangled,  and  his  head  fell  on  his  bosom  in  the 
besotted  way  of  a  drunken  man's.  Then  Chester 
revived  the  story  of  the  inebriate  who  leaned  against 
the  lamp-post  and  laid  imaginary  wagers  upon  his 
own  stability.  "Bet  you  I'll  fall,"  the  sloth  seemed 
to  say,  as  he  leered  at  them  stupidly.  "Bet  you 
a  dollar  I'll  fall.  Bet  you  five  dol— "  Here  the 
herbage  gave  way  and  the  animal  descended  into  the 
road  with  a  roll  and  a  flop.  Slowly  turning  its  head 


160  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

toward  the  group,  it  seemed  to  continue,  "There  ! 
Won  the  bet." 

"  When  we  were  up  in  the  interior,"  said  the  Natu- 
ralist, "  one  of  our  men  shot  a  sloth,  but  it  died  hard 
and  he  had  to  finish  it  with  a  hatchet.  When  one  of 
these  animals  is  wounded  it  cries  just  like  a  baby,  and 
this  one  squalled  till  words  couldn't  describe  it." 

"Like  an  infant  class? "  suggested  Robinson. 

"  Yes,  like  a  whole  kindergarten.  Herod  himself 
never  heard  such  a  howling.  I  never  want  to  see 
another  wounded  sloth." 

"I  would,"  said  Chester.  "Let's  make  this  one 
talk,"  and  he  began  to  poke  it  with  Stacy's  parasol 
as  rudely  as  if  it  was  nothing  but  an  unfeeling  plas- 
ter cast  in  a  museum  and  he  was  a  lady  critic. 

44 1  would  like  to  hear  it  cry,"  ventured  Pauline, 
timidly. 

"  Et  tu,  Brute  f  "  said  Kobinson. 

"Brute  yourself!"  cried  Chester.  "Whatever 
Polly  does  is  right,  and  if  she  wants  to  hear  the 
beast  squeal  it's  right  that  it  should  squeal.  Who's 
got  a  pin  ?  Polly  never  did  anything  wrong  in  her 
life  —  only  once. " 

"And  when  was  that,  pray?"  asked  Robinson. 
"That's  news  to  me." 

"That  was  when  her  croquet  ball  wouldn't  lie 
still,  and  she  put  her  foot  on  it  and  lammed  it  with 
her  mallet  and  wished  the  thing  had  feeling." 

"  Chester,  I  didn't  lam  it.     I  only  hit  it." 

"  What  depravity!  "  said  Robinson,  gravely.  "  O 
Pauline,  Pauline,  you  don't  know  what  you  have 
done.  You  have  made  me  lose  my  last  bit  of  faith 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  MEGATHERIUMS.    161 

in  womankind.     I  thought  you  at  least  were  perfect." 

"I  didn't  mean  it,"  replied  the  child,  the  tears 
gathering  in  her  eyes. 

"  However,  you  may  be  forgiven  if  you  never  do 
anything  worse  than  that,  and  never  put  your  foot  on 
some  young  man's  heart,  and  abuse  that,  as  your 
big  sister  habitually  does  with  the  young  men  of  her 
acquaintance." 

In  the  meantime  the  sloth  was  doing  its  feeble 
best  to  escape.  Yain  attempt.  It  could  not  walk, 
but  could  only  flounder.  Balanced  on  its  hind  legs, 
it  was  as  unstable  as  a  turtle  on  its  tail,  and  the 
least  touch  would  throw  it  over.  Its  limbs  were 
loose-jointed  and  gifted  with  extensile  strength 
alone.  Like  the  cables  of  a  suspension  bridge,  they 
were  designed  for  tension  and  not  for  compression, 
and  it  was  only  on  the  tree,  and  travelling  along  the 
under  side  of  the  bough,  that  it  was  at  home. 

In  order  to  carry  it  thither  the  Naturalist  offered 
it  a  branch  from  the  thicket.  It  grasped  it  with  one 
paw,  and  then,  hand  over  hand,  with  the  practised 
and  easy  swing  of  an  accomplished  athlete,  it  trav- 
ersed its  length.  Placed  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  it 
seemed  to  gather  new  life  and  strength  from  the 
touch  of  its  bark.  Its  ascent  was  noiseless,  rapid, 
and  graceful.  Breaking  off  an  obtruding  dry  spine, 
pushing  aside  a  green  twig  that  was  in  the  way, 
selecting  its  route  with  that  animal  instinct  which  puts 
to  shame  our  human  judgment,  it  was  soon  at  the  top 
of  the  tree.  There,  in  its  chosen  habitation,  whose 
leaves  are  its  food,  they  left  it,  the  type  of  all  that  is 
"  Remote,  unfriended,  melancholy,  slow." 


XY. 
ON  COKCOYADO. 

The  Pharaohs  were  a  vulgar  lot ;  they  cut  their  names  wherever 
they  could  find  a  smooth  and  conspicuous  place. — CHARLES  DUDLEY 
WARNER. 

NEAR  the  crest  of  Corcovado,  in  that  lofty  zone 
where  the  palms  are  scarce  and  the  hard-wood 
trees  are  stained  with  red  lichen,  in  that  notch  in 
the  mountains  where  the  thirsty  aqueduct  crosses  to 
the  other  side  of  the  range  and  goes  its  dangerous 
way  in  search  of  water,  there  is  another  resting-place 
where  the  tourists  tether  their  horses,  eat  their  cold 
snacks,  and  remove  their  coats  preparatory  to  the  last 
hard  clamber  to  the  summit.  It  is  an  umbrella  of 
palm  thatch,  shaped  like  a  gigantic  mushroom, 
around  whose  stalk  in  the  centre  a  table  is  built, 
where  luncheons  innumerable  have  been  spread. 
Around  this  rustic  board  there  are  chairs  equally 
rustic,  being  sections  of  the  solid  log. 

Our  party  sat  down  here  and  reproached  them- 
selves arid  each  other  —  especially  each  other  —  for 
going  on  a  picnic  without  any  cold  victuals. 

"I  am  thirsty,"  said  Robinson.  "Only  to  think 
of  an  exploring  expedition  starting  out  without  med- 
icine, and  this  in  Brazil,  where  snake-bites  are  sup- 
posed to  be  common!" 

"It  is  but  a  few  steps  to  the  venda,"  suggested 
the  Naturalist. 


ON  CORCOVADO.  163 

"I  have  been  there,  tempted  by  the  sight  of  a 
sardine-box  and  a  broken  bottle  at  the  door;  but 
alas  !  their  shelves  are  empty  and  their  casks  are 
dry.  This  has  not  been  a  fortunate  day.  We  have 
found  bananas,  but  they  were  green;  plums,  but  they 
were  sour ;  and  now  a  venda  where  nothing  is 
vended." 

" A  bouquet  of  beer  still  lingers  around  this  shelf," 
said  the  Naturalist,  "and  here  are  stains  that  water 
never  made." 

"And  here  is  a  cheese  crumb  and  half  of  a  hard- 
boiled  egg,"  cried  Chester. 

UA  soupgon  of  sausage  still  lingers  in  the  air," 
added  Stacy.  "  Inhale  and  be  refreshed." 

"Rather  a  Barmecidal  banquet,"  objected  Robin- 
son. 

"What  would  you  have  ?"  asked  the  Naturalist. 
"Those  who  live  in  the  woods  should  take  such 
bounties  as  the  woods  provide.  Here  is  one  of  them, 
which,  if  you  are  more  hungry  than  fastidious,  will 
taste  better  to  you  than  the  brains  of  singing  birds 
or  the  roe  of  mullets." 

So  saying,  he  displayed  a  large  black  ant  which 
he  had  plucked  from  an  overhanging  limb,  and 
whose  head  he  had  pinched  between  his  thumb  and 
finger  so  as  to  effect  its  quietus. 

"This  is  a  staple  article  of  food  among  the  sav- 
ages of  the  interior,  where  monkey  steaks  prevail. 
Many  an  otherwise  unpalatable  meal  have  I  savored  • 
with  a  sauce  of  these  ants  —  a  sauce  piquante,  as  it 
were.  Or  taken  raw,  fresh  from  the  bush,  as  we 
pick  blackberries,  they  are  not  to  be  despised,  either 


164  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

as  a  whet  or  a  dessert.  Indeed,  it  requires  no  very 
active  imagination  to  liken  this  insect  to  the  black- 
berry. Notice  the  glossy  black  of  its  lobes,  and  how 
each  resembles  a  fragment  of  the  berry  in  question. 
See  how  conveniently  it  is  divided  into  sections  by 
a  kind  Providence,  so  as  to  afford  several  bites  to  the 
dainty  mouth.  How  does  it  taste,  do  you  ask  ?  It 
ought  to  be  recorded  among  the  Apician  delicacies. 
Its  flavor  is  very  much  like  that  of  the  blackberry, 
only  perhaps  a  trifle  more  pungent." 

"I  dare  you  to  eat  it,"  challenged  Chester. 

"  After  you,"  said  he  politely,  offering  it  around 
the  circle.  Then  he  picked  off  its  head  and  threw 
it  away,  and  placed  the  carcass  in  his  mouth.  There 
was  a  momentary  struggle  between  the  muscles  of 
his  face,  which,  under  his  control,  endeavored  to 
force  the  morsel  down,  and  the  involuntary  machin- 
ery of  his  neck,  which  rejected  it.  The  latter  pre- 
vailed, and  he  was  obliged  to  spit  it  out. 

"It  is  not  the  right  species,"  said  he  apologeti- 
cally. 

"I  know  what  was  the  matter,"  said  Chester. 
"You  ought  to  have  put  it  on  ice  first." 

"That  is  it,  exactly,"  replied  the  Naturalist. 
"  The  Indians  always  put  theirs  on  ice  for  an  hour 
or  two.  This  was  a  little  too  fresh.  I  don't  believe 
it  was  hardly  dead  yet.  I  think  it  kicked,  and  tick- 
led my  throat.  This  is  not  the  right  time  of  year 
for  that  sort  of  game,  either.  And  besides,  they 
never  eat  them  without  a  pinch  of  salt." 

It  was  evident  that  he  was  chagrined  over  his 
defeat. 


ON  CORCOVADO.  165 


At  a  later  hour,  in  discussing  this  incident,  Stacy 
said : 

"I  don't  think  I  could  ever  love  a  man  that 
would  eat  ants." 

"Neither  could  I,"  said  Robinson,  with  effusion. 
"  Shake  hands  on  it,  Stacy." 

"I'm  so  glad,"  she  continued,  demurely,  "that 
Mr.  Kingston  failed  in  his  effort.  If  he  had  swal- 
lowed it  I  am  afraid  that  I  never  could  have  re- 
spected him  again." 

Robinson  collected  himself,  and  withdrew  his 
proffered  hand. 

The  penknife  of  many  a  predecessor  had  chipped 
into  the  soft  pine  of  the  table  where  they  sat,  carv- 
ing monograms,  love-knots,  spitted  hearts,  and  other 
nonsense  of  an  idle  hour.  Chester  contributed  a 
star-spangled  banner  to  the  collection,  and  then 
brought  down  a  storm  of  condemnation  by  begin- 
ning to  hew  out  his  name  underneath. 

"I  don't  care,"  complained  he.  "Here's 
ALPHETJS  JOHNSON,  CONNECTICUT,  and  I'm  not  going 
to  allow  any  Yankee  by  the  name  of  Johnson  to  get 
ahead  of  me." 

"Let  him  register,"  said  the  Naturalist.  "It 
will  interest  the  native  young  ladies  from  Rio.  They 
will  spell  out  his  name  and  build  a  romance  upon  it, 
with  a  hero  of  light  hair,  blonde  face,  and  a  full 
chest.  Have  you  noticed  that  there  is  always  some- 
thing alluring  about  the  names  of  foreigners  ?  Im- 
agine the  effect  of  the  prolix  autograph  of  Pedro 
Henrique  Carlos  Rubens  Ferreiro  upon  a  boarding- 


166  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

school  miss  of  our  country,   if  she  should  have  it 
presented  to  her  on  a  visiting  card." 

"  But  that  is  such  a  pretty  name,"  said  Stacy. 

"In  your  ears,  yes.  Bat  what  do  you  think  it 
means  ?  "  asked  he. 

' '  I  don't  know,  but  I  should  think  the  owner  of  it 
would  be  a  count  or  a  baron  at  least." 

"It  means  Peter  Henry  Charles  Reuben  Smith." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Stacy,  her  illusion  gone.  "  That  is 
worse  than  Chester  Smith  or  Henry  Clay  Robinson. " 

"  Just  think  what  a  racket  Pedro  Henrique  etc. 
Smith  would  create  among  the  girls  at  Newport  or 
Washington!"  said  Robinson.  "And  what  a  wel- 
come guest  he  would  prove  to  that  Georgetown 
landlady,  of  a  good  old  family  in  reduced  circum- 
stances, who,  having  daughters  to  marry,  advertised 
for  boarders,  'foreigners  preferred.'  I  had  the  dis- 
tinguished honor  of  knowing  a  young  lady  of  that 
type  myself,  and  once  having  occasion  to  draw  a 
comparison  from  Hawthorne,  was  crushed  by  her 
lofty  statement  that  she  never  read  American  litera- 
ture. I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  disdain  with 
which  she  regarded  me,  when,  in  response  to  an 
observation  of  hers,  I  inadvertently  said  '  I  guess 
so.'  But  she  had  all  of  the  latest  Belgravian  argot 
on  her  tongue  and  was  busy,  when  I  last  saw  her, 
in  laying  matrimonial  snares  for  a  villainous  rake  of 
one  of  the  foreign  legations." 

"  Fortunately  for  our  national  pride,"  said  the 
Naturalist,  "  folly  of  this  kind  is  not  confined  to  the 
United  States.  It  was  only  the  other  evening  that 
I  was  out  to  dinner  in  this  city  and  became  the  per- 


ON  CORCOVADO.  167 


functory  confidant  of  a  sensitive  lady  who  had  been 
slighted  in  some  way,  as  she  fancied.  <  And  this  af- 
front to  me,'  she  said,  in  glowing  terms,  'to  me,  whose 
grandfather  was  a  foreigner!'  But,  after  all,  is  not 
this  universal  weakness  something  of  a  blessing, 
inasmuch  as  in  our  present  state  of  society  every 
person  has  something  to  be  proud  of,  and  very  pecu- 
liar must  be  the  conditions  of  the  man  who  cannot 
contemplate  himself  from  some  point  of  view,  with 
complacency.  If  his  ancestors  came  over  with  the 
first  cargo  of  convicts  to  Virginia,  he  belongs  to  one 
of  the  old  families.  If  they  are  a  recent  importa- 
tion, then  he  can  say,  with  the  lady  of  whom  I  have 
spoken,  '  My  grandfather  was  a  foreigner. '  If  he  is 
rich,  he  is  proud  of  his  wealth;  if  poor,  of  his  hon- 
orable poverty.  If  he  has  a  family  Bible  with  a 
well  filled  genealogical  page,  he  boasts  of  his  line- 
age; if  he  was  a  foundling,  he  glories  in  the  fact  that 
he  is  a  self-made  man.  And  so  it  goes.  Every 
one,  by  this  beneficent  arrangement  of  Providence, 
may  exalt  himself  and  feel  a  secret  contempt  for  his 
neighbor. 

"  Our  disdain  for  the  Chinese  is  not  superior  to 
their  disdain  for  us.  Even  the  law  and  the  gospel 
obey  this  general  rule,  for  the  man  with  the  green 
bag  and  the  man  with  the  surplice  each  thinks  that 
his  particular  profession  is  the  key-stone  of  the  arch 
of  useful  employment.  The  clerk  in  the  village 
grocery  will  not  associate  with  the  farmer's  boy  who 
brings  the  butter  and  eggs  from  the  country;  he  in 
his  turn  is  scorned  by  the  young  gentleman  from 
the  country-seat,  who  is  not  allowed  to  penetrate  the 


168  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

mystic  circle  of  best  society  when  he  goes  to  Albany, 
whose  members  knock  in  vain  at  the  doors  of  the 
New  York  clubs,  the  flower  of  which  are  annually 
snubbed  in  London  and  Paris. 

"But  this  is  a  digression,  indeed,"  he  continued, 
as  the  bells  of  the  distant  city  told  off  another  hour. 
"The  day  passes,  and  Corcovado  is  yet  above  us. 
Prepare  for  the  last  hard  scramble." 

Reaching  the  summit,  they  ascended  the  final  rock 
of  the  crest  by  steps  chipped  out  of  the  solid  stone. 
The  peak  was  composed  of  a  double  crag,  whose  in- 
tervening fissure  was  arched  over  with  smooth  ma- 
sonry. Around  the  outer  edge  of  the  level  floor 
thus  formed  there  was  an  inclosure  of  white  wall, 
constituting  the  castle  in  the  air  which  Robinson  had 
erstwhile  mistaken  for  a  convent.  Inside  of  this 
parapet  there  ran  a  bench  of  colored  tiles,  arranged 
in  mosaic  pattern. 

"This  is  a  warm  climate,  indeed,"  said  Robinson. 
"Here  is  more  tessellated  masonry  at  the  top  of 
a  mountain  where,  in  the  States,  the  eternal  rocks 
themselves  would  not  be  safe  from  the  frosts'  hidden 
enginery." 

"And  it  must  have  been  here  a  generation  at 
least,"  said  the  Naturalist,  "for  Ewbank,  in  his 
peregrinations  in  1845,  visited  this  spot,  and,  in  the 
naive  frankness  of  the  American  vandal,  he  speaks 
of  the  mosaic  pavement  here,  '  a  specimen  of  which 
I  took.'" 

"Chester,  do  come  down  from  there  !"  called  Stacy 
to  her  brother,  who  was  lounging  on  the  top  of  the 
wall,  taking  a  position  in  which,  had  his  shoes 


ON  CORCOVADO.  169 


dropped  off,  they  would  have  fallen  a  thousand  feet 
sheer  downward. 

"  I'm  enjoying  the  scenery,"  said  Chester.  "  You 
can't  get  the  genuine  thrill  of  a  beautiful  view  cooped 
up  in  a  place  like  that,  any  more  than  these  folks 
down  here  can  get  the  true  idea  of  skating  from  their 
parlor  skates." 

"  You'd  better  come  away,  Chester,"  warned  Rob- 
inson. "It  is  for  the  .benefit  of  such  adventurous 
spirits  as  you  that  the  wall  was  built." 

uThe  true  motive  of  the  wall,  as  I  understand  it," 
said  the  Naturalist,  "  is  to  be  found  in  the  tragedy 
of  which  this  spot  was  the  theatre  once  upon  a 
time." 

'"A  legend!  "  cried  Robinson,  producing  his  note- 
book. "Now,  this  is  what  we  have  been  waiting 
for.  Make  it  grim  and  gory,  please." 

"  It  is  the  legend  of  the  two  travellers  who  came 
up  here  many  years  ago.  While  lost  in  contempla- 
tion of  the  beauties  around  him,  one  of  them  was 
grappled  by  his  companion,  who  had  developed  a 
full-blown  insanity  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  and 
sought  to  throw  his  life-long  friend  down  this  Tar- 
peian  cliff,  but,  fortunately,  without  success." 

"  Not  a  very  blood-curdling  legend,  to  be  sure," 
said  Robinson,  ' '  but,  taken  on  the  spot,  it  is  quite 
sufficient.  And  then  the  moral  is  good — when  you  go 
to  Corcovado,  be  certain  that  your  companion  is  not 
subject  to  feeling  queer.  By  the  way,  Colonel,  there 
is  something  in  your  eye  which  makes  me  wish  I  had 
not  come.  Is  it  the  reflection  of  desperation  and 
deadly  intent  in  your  heart  ? " 


170  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


"No,  it  is  the  result  of  an  empty  stomach,  I 
guess." 

"  Feast  on  the  landscape  around  us,"  said  the 
Naturalist.  "  Behold  the  mountains,  piled  in  all 
forms  of  imagery  and  green  with  forests  from  sea  to 
summit ;  the  great  bald  conoid  of  the  Sugar  Loaf, 
higher  than  several  Trinity  Churches  ;  the  lumpy 
mountain  system  beyond  the  bay,  resembling,  in  its 
alternations  of  hill  and  fur,row,  the  expanse  of  a 
Titanic  potato-field  ;  and  the  islands,  the  culminat- 
ing points  of  other  ranges  now  covered  by  the  sea, 
how  they  dwindle  in  size  as  they  recede  from  the 
shore!  Follow  the  city  with  your  eye,  as  it  strag- 
gles along  its  miles  and  miles  of  coast,  and  runs 
back  into  the  numerous  little  valleys  which  separate 
the  equally  numerous  spurs  with  which  the  moun- 
tains subside  into  the  sea.  See  the  neat  white  villas 
gleaming  from  the  thick  verdure  around.  Behold 
this  one  at  our  very  feet ;  what  a  bird's-eye  view  we 
have  of  its  gardens  and  parterres  !  Trace,  if  you 
can,  the  winding  yellow  road  by  which  we  came, 
digged  for  the  public  convenience  by  the  kind 
paternal  government  under  whose  aegis  we  are." 

4 '  What  is  a  paternal  government  ? ' '  asked  Chester. 

"A  paternal  government,  my  boy,  is  one  that 
taxes  the  distant  provinces  to  pay  for  home  improve- 
ments." 

"And  what  do  you  mean  by  '  aegis  '  ?  " 

"That  is  the  kind  attention  paid  to  the  stranger 
by  the  officials  of  the  custom  house  and  police,  who 
seize  his  passport,  scribble  on  it,  detain  it,  tell  him 
to  call  for  it  to-morrow,  eye  him  suspiciously,  treat 


ON  CORCOVADO.  171 

him  rudely,  and  in  other  ways  seek  to  convince  him 
that  he  is  a  person  so  important  that  the  Brazilian 
nation  is  afraid  of  him." 

In  the  centre  of  the  enclosure  where  they  were 
gathered  was  a  stone  pillar.  Above  it  arose  a  flag- 
staff, which  in  its  time  had  supported  not  only  the 
flags  of  all  nations,  but  also  many  a  handkerchief, 
napkin,  and  apron,  the  colors  of  those  who  had  pic- 
nicked there.  Robinson  was  standing  upon  this  ros- 
trum, getting  together  the  points  of  a  little  speech 
which  he  was  contemplating,  when  he  discovered  a 
phenomenon  which  diverted  his  attention  to  an- 
other and  better  end. 

At  this  hour  the  mists  came  rolling  in  from  the 
sea,  and,  dissolving  against  the  warm  rock  of  the 
mountain  top,  were  invisible  there,  while  under- 
neath, at  the  base  of  the  peak,  a  turbulent  ocean 
of  vapors  eddied  and  curled.  Standing  with  his 
back  to  the  sun,  which  was  then  in  the  distant  north, 
Robinson  saw  a  tiny  arc  of  rainbow,  a  semi-circle  in 
length,  lying  on  the  clouds  below.  In  its  centre 
was  a  black  object,  dim  at  first,  but  which  took  on 
human  shape  as  the  bow  grew  brighter.  By  some 
chance  motion,  repeated  in  the  apparition,  he  first 
learned  that  this  shadow  was  his  picture,  and  great 
was  his  enthusiasm. 

He  made  gestures,  gyrations,  and  postures  ;  his 
eidolon  mimicked  him  faithfully.  He  swayed  from 
side  to  side  ;  the  silhouette  did  the  same,  and  the 
halo  of  border  obligingly  accompanied  it.  He 
hoisted  his  umbrella;  its  convex  reflection  fitted 
neatly  into  the  arc  of  the  rainbow. 


172  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"Come  up  here,  Stacy,  and  have  jour  picture 
taken,"  he  called.  ult's  no  slight  thing  to  be  pho- 
tographed on  such  a  scale  and  have  it  framed  in  so 
gorgeous  a  border  of  seven  colors.  Come,  Stacy, 
I'll  stand  the  expense.  There,  now,  take  hold  of 
my  arm  and  snuggle  up  close  so  that  we  won't  crowd 
the  rainbow.  Now  let's  make  a  little  courtesy.  See 
how  gracefully  the  figures  in  the  mirror  make  obei- 
sance in  response.  Surely  nature  must  be  flattering 
us.  But  no,  nature  is  incapable  of  flattery.  It  must 
be  that  we  look  well  together,  Stacy.  Were  this  a 
fit  occasion  — 

"I  wish  you  would  help  me  down,"  said  Stacy, 
"  and  I  will  leave  this  platform  to  yourself.  I  have 
always  noticed  that  public  speakers  require  a  good 
deal  of  elbow  room." 

Robinson  descended  from  his  pulpit.  At  its  base 
he  caught  sight  of  an  inscription,  and  cried  : 

"Amigos!  There  are  bigger  fools  in  the  world 
than  Alpheus  Johnson  of  Connecticut,  and  they  are 
not  American,  either.  Viva  a  Repullica  /" 

He  had  found  where  some  aspirant  for  fame,  sub- 
scribing himself  with  that  extraordinary  length  of 
name  characteristic  of  the  Brazilian  people,  had 
stencilled  his  card  upon  the  stone  pillar,  while 
two  other  persons,  four  names  to  the  person,  had 
carved  their  autographs  deep  into  a  hand's-breadth 
of  lead  sheeting,  which  they  had  carried  all  this  dis- 
tance and  height  and  bolted  down  to  the  solid  rock. 

"Before  these  cases  of  idiocy,"  continued  Robin- 
son, "the  folly  of  Alpheus  Johnson  is  dimmed. 
His  was  the  work  of  thoughtlessness  and  an  idle 


ON  CORCOVADO.  1T3 


moment;  theirs  was  premeditated  and  aforethought. 
'What  fools  these  mortals  be.'  " 

And  with  hearts  hopeful  for  the  future  of  the  great 
republic,  they  took  up  their  homeward  inarch. 


XYI. 
SEEING  THE  CITY. 

A  child  lost  in  the  midst  of  the  multitude. 
< Hi!  Hi!  Hi!" 

'What  are  you  yelling  about?" 
'  I  want  my  mother." 
'  What's  your  name  ?" 
' I  don't  know.     Hi!  Hi!  Hi!" 
'Where  do  you  live?" 

'  I  live  in  a  very  dirty  street,  where  there  is  a  church. " 
'  Why,  my  house  is  in  the  same  street." 

— FRANCA  JUNIOR. 

ON  the  day  after  the  ascent  of  Corcovado,  Robin- 
son and  Stacy  started  out  for  a  morning  walk. 
Upon  the  door-step  Robinson  turned  to  face  his  com- 
panion, looked  into  her  eyes,  and  said: 

"Now,  tell  me  truly,  honor  bright,  what  do  you 
think  of  Rio?" 

"I  think  it  is  perfectly  lovely,"  she  replied,  with 
a  girl's  enthusiasm.  She  was  holding  a  rose  to  her 
lips  as  she  spoke,  and  was  thinking  of  what  she  had 
seen  the  day  before, —  the  pretty  chalets  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountain,  the  blue  dotted  with  green  of  the 
bay  and  islands,  the  white  ships  out  at  sea,  and  the 
fleeces  of  cloud  in  the  sky. 

"You  think  that  nothing  could  change  your 
opinion  ?" 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  Stacy,  a  little  indig- 
nant at  having  her  constancy  called  in  question. 

174 


SEElNa   THE  CITY.  175 

"Then,  come." 

"Did  you  call  me?"  asked  Chester,  indifferently, 
as  he  strolled  into  hailing  distance. 

"  Shall  we  take  him  ?"  asked  Robinson. 

"  We  might  tolerate  him,"  said  Stacy,  "if  he 
will  promise  to  keep  at  a  respectful  distance,  and  not 
let  people  know  that  he  belongs  to  us." 

"  You  hear  the  conditions,"  said  Robinson. 
"You  are  to  be  an  outrider,  a  page,  an  escort,  a 
skirmisher — " 

"No,  sir;  you  haven't  hit  it  yet.  A  chaperon, 
that's  the  word.  And  if  I  say  '  Ana-sta-tia ! '  you 
want  to  let  go  of  Rob's  arm,  sis,  and  brace  up. 
And  if  I  call  out,  '  You,  Henry  !  '  you'll  know  what 
that  means." 

Perhaps  there  was  something  malicious  in  Robin- 
son's guidance  as  he  led  his  friends  around  the  city. 
At  least  so  Stacy  thought. 

"But  aren't  there  any  pleasant  walks  in  Rio?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes;  numerous.  But  they  are  all  outside  of 
the  city." 

"What  can  I  do?"  she  cried  in  dismay,  as  they 
passed  the  angle  of  a  church.  "  I  cannot  hold  up  my 
skirts  and  my  parasol,  and  keep  my  handkerchief  to 
my  face,  with  only  two  hands." 

c '  Coitadinha  !  Let  me  take  your  umbrella.  Now 
we'll  leave  this  unpleasant  quarter  and  go  around  by 
the  market.  The  market,  you  know,  is  always  an 
interesting  locality  in  the  morning." 

They  met  peddlers,  heavily  loaded,  hastening  to 
the  suburbs  with  their  various  burdens;  vendors  of 


176  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

dry  goods  with  their  chests  of  stuffs  upon  their 
backs,  striking  their  measuring  wands  together  to 
warn  their  customers  of  their  approach;  the  man 
with  a  basket  of  culinary  furniture  upon  his  head, 
beating  a  frying-pan  and  accompanying  his  steps 
with  a  shrill  tintinnabulation;  the  man  with  an  Ossa 
of  tin-ware  upon  a  Pelion  of  earthen-ware,  and  the 
whole  surmounted  by  a  bath-tub;  the  serious  Chinese 
shrimp  merchant,  ambling  along,  and  having  great 
trouble  with  his  /•' s  as  he  announced  "Camardes! 
Camaroes  !  " 

There  were  women  also,  stalwart  blacks,  with 
fruit,  vegetables,  and  sweetmeats,  some  of  them 
sprawling  upon  the  sidewalks  and  others  striding 
along  with  determined  gait,  making  the  timid  clerks 
in  white  pantaloons  scatter  before  them  like  so  many 
sheep.  One  of  these  bore  down  upon  Stacy  and 
Robinson  like  a  black  cloud  upon  a  pleasure  party. 
Upon  her  head  there  was  a  wooden  tray  upon  which 
were  piled  a  ghastly  beefs-head,  some  tripe,  liver, 
and  other  odds  and  ends  of  the  butcher's  shop.  As 
she  walked,  with  arms  akimbo,  she  swept  the  pave- 
ment clean  before  her,  and,  confident  of  her  suprem- 
acy over  all  ordinary  passengers,  she  gave  them  no 
thought,  but  kept  her  eyes  on  the  distant  future. 
Robinson  dragged  Stacy  hastily  into  the  middle  of 
the  street,  thus  avoiding  a  collision. 

Stacy  was  ruffled  by  this  abrupt  action. 

"  The  hateful  -creature  !  "  said  she.  "  They  ought 
to  put  her  in  prison.  Where  are  the  police  ?  " 

"  All  around  us,"  replied  Robinson.     "This  thin 


SEEING  THE  CITY.  177 

stripling  in  the  airy  costume  of  brown  linen  is  a 
policeman." 

1 '  You  don't  say !  "  exclaimed  Chester,  in  wonder. 
4 '  Why,  I'm  not  afraid  of  any  boy  of  his  size.  I 
say,  Bobby  !  Come  out  from  behind  that  sword.  I 
know  you're  there,  for  I  see  your  legs  hanging 
down." 

The  policeman  did  not  understand  the  words  of 
this  speech,  but  he  seemed  seriously  inclined  to 
arrest  Chester  on  grounds  of  suspicion  alone;  there 
was  something  in  the  boy's  voice  and  eye  that 
seemed  to  threaten  the  public  quiet  and  safety. 

A  white-gloved  orderly,  bearing  an  immense  offi- 
cial envelope  in  his  hand,  dashed  at  gallop  down  the 
street,  as  if  the  enemy  were  at  the  city  gates  and 
this  letter  contained  the  terms  of  surrender.  The 
shoulders  and  flanks  of  his  fine  horse  were  dashed 
with  lather  and  foam,  and  the  messenger's  sword 
clanked  ominously  with  its  voice  of  war.  He  was 
engaged  upon  government  business ;  probably  it 
was  an  application  for  a  widow's  pension,  submitted 
several  years  ago  and  to  be  decided  as  many  years 
hence.  In  this  way  government  business  is  trans- 
acted all  the  world  over. 

A  waterman  with  his  cart  —  that  is,  a  barrel  of 
water  upon  two  wheels  —  next  attracted  attention, 
and  Stacy's  sympathy  was  aroused  at  seeing  this 
barefooted  aquarius  tugging  at  the  shaft  by  the  side 
of  his  faithful  friend  and  servant,  the  mule,  to  help 
him  what  little  he  could. 

After  the  waterman,  in  logical  sequence  came  the 
milkman  with  his  perambulating  dairy.      He   was 
12 


178  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

leading  his  cow  by  a  rope  tied  around  her  horns, 
and  she  in  turn  was  dragging  her  calf,  an  overgrown 
hulk  of  a  yearling,  by  a  cord  running  from  the  end  of 
her  tail  to  the  head  of  her  pampered  infant ;  it  is  a 
theory  among  these  milkmen  that  the  cow  will  not 
ugive  down"  unless  the  calf  is  present  to  butt  and 
fumble  with  his  muzzled  snout  while  the  dairyman 
is  pursuing  his  task.  Both  the  calf  and  the  cow 
hung  back  stubbornly  and  wavered  as  they  walked, 
so  that  the  three  formed  a  procession  which,  though 
attenuated,  was  by  no  means  inconsiderable,  and 
they  effectually  cleared  the  sidewalk,  driving  Rob- 
inson and  Stacy  again  into  the  street.  These  had 
the  curiosity  to  watch  the  milkman  until  he  came  to 
the  door  of  a  customer,  when  he  unslung  his  cup 
and  milked  it  full,  the  calf  meanwhile  interfering 
with  dumb  protestations,  thrusting  his  boot-leg 
muzzle  into  the  tantalizing  fluid,  while  the  cow 
quietly  ruminated,  probably  wondering  how  it  was 
that  this  child  of  hers  could  drink  so  much  without 
getting  fat. 

At  some  distance  farther  on  was  the  stable,  which 
appeared  to  be  an  important  centre  of  the  dairy  in- 
terests. It  was  situated  upon  one  of  the  principal 
streets,  between  a  couple  of  fancy  little  dwelling- 
houses  which  were  painted  to  shame  the  rainbow, 
and  in  Stacy's  eyes  the  establishment  seemed  to  be 
very  much  out  of  place.  Two  or  three  half-naked 
children  were  playing  in  the  doorway  and  waging  an 
unequal  war  with  the  fleas.  Two  or  three  goats, 
independent  and  aggressive  as  city  goats  always  are, 
were  holding  their  own,  like  Thermopylaean  heroes, 


SEEING   THE  CITY.  179 

upon  the  trottoir  and  in  the  street,  to  the  almost 
total  obstruction  of  travel. 

Stacy's  handkerchief  was  again  brought  into  use. 

" I  dislike  musk,"  said  she.  "I  hate  the  smell 
of  musk,  but  I  am  never  going  to  come  out  again 
without  it.  There  are  some  things  worse  than  musk 
in  this  world." 

"  It's  the  breath  of  the  kine,"  answered  Robinson. 
"  Have  you  not  often  read  of  it  in  poetry  and  stories 
of  the  summer  vacation?  It's  the  breath  of  the 
kine.  How  thankful  ought  these  stifled  dwellers  of 
the  city  to  be  that  they  have  at  least  this  taste  of 
country  life  at  their  doors!  But,  ungrateful  that 
they  are,  I  will  venture  to  say  that  in  all  Brazilian 
literature  there  is  not  a  single  scrap  about  milkmaids 
and  the  romance  of  the  barnyard." 

"  Hush  !     Milkmaids  are  nice  —  to  read  about." 

Officials  of  church  and  state,  clad  in  sombre  vest- 
ments and  gay  uniforms,  jostled  them  at  every  turn. 
Surely,  they  thought,  the  governors  of  the  Brazilian 
soul  and  body  must  outnumber  the  governed.  Be- 
tween cathe'dral  and  convent  journeyed  the  young 
priest,  with  his  fleshy  lips  and  his  cheeks  red  and 
full  in  the  grossness  of  sensuality.  The  jolly  little 
Beranger  of  the  brotherhood,  whose  sacerdotal  garb 
could  not  quite  smother  the  merry  twinkle  of  his 
eye  and  the  kindness  that  lay  in  every  feature, 
beamed  on  them  from  a  street  corner,  where  he 
stood  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff. 

"I  like  him,"  said  Stacy.  "I  don't  suppose  he 
is  of  much  use,  but  then  he  can't  be  capable  of  any 
great  harm.  But  here  is  a  better  one  still,"  she 


180  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

continued,  as  they  met  a  Franciscan  with  his  benevo- 
lent face  and  long  flowing  beard,  and  his  black 
gown  with  its  clothes-line  cincture  about  the  waist. 
"Now  this  man  must  believe  what  he  professes, 
whatever  that  may  be,  and  if  I  am  any  judge  of 
character — as  you  know  I  am,  Henry  —  he  would 
be  a  hero  or  a  martyr  or  a  ministering  angel,  if 
there  was  an  opportunity.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he 
was  on  an  errand  of  mercy  at  this  very  moment." 

"He  is  certainly  a  martyr  at  this  very  moment," 
replied  Robinson.  "I  wonder  that  he  doesn't  die 
in  this  hot  sun,  with  all  of  that  ulster  of  black  stuff 
dragging  at  his  heels." 

"Black  is  the  fashion  here.  You  are  way  out  of 
the  world  with  that  brown  hat  and  gaudy  cravat  of 
yours.  You  ought  to  wear  a  high  black  hat,  a  black 
tie,  and  a  heavy  Prince  Albert  coat.  Then  I  would 
be  proud  to  walk  with  you.  As  it  is,  people  stare 
at  you.  They  think  you  are  an  Englishman." 

"Oh,  anything  but  that,  Stacy,  anything  but  that. 
Do  I  wear  a  towel  for  a  hat-band  and  sling  a  field- 
glass  to  my  side,  that  they  should  consider  me  a 
blarsted  Briton  ?  No,  indeed.  Do  I  stop  and  stam- 
mer and  gasp  every  three  or  four  words  of  my  con- 
versation with  ladies,  catching  myself  on  the  verge 
of  using  some  low  slang  from  the  clubs  or  stables  ? 
I  flatter  myself  that  J  don't." 

"They  must  think  you  are  English,"  continued 
Stacy,  coolly,  "for  I  heard  a  visitor  at  the  hotel  ask 
the  servant  if  that  man  with  the  chess-board  panta- 
loons and  the  beefsteak  complexion — pointing  you 
out  —  belonged  to  the  British  legation." 


SEEING   THE  CITY.  181 

•  "O  Stacy!  that  is  adding  insult  to  injury.  Have 
they  no  discrimination,  these  people  ?  I  can  tell  a 
Brazilian  from  a  Portuguese,  and  I  don't  see  why 
they  can't  be  equally  kind  to  us.  But  I  don't  care," 
he  added,  growing  desperate.  "I'm  going  to  con- 
sider my  comfort  in  the  selection  of  my  wardrobe, 
even  if  it  costs  me  my  birthright  of  national  pride. 
I'm  not  so  proud  as  I  sometimes  pretend  to  be,  and 
as  you  think  I  am.  If  it  comes  to  the  worst,  I  don't 
know  but  I  would  rather  be  taken  for  an  English- 
man than  to  be  sun-struck  and  die  a  horrible  death 
in  the  public  streets.  Just  wait  till  about  Christ- 
mas and  you'll  see  me  blossom  out  in  my  white  flan- 
nel suit,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  arrested  for  masque- 
rading before  carnival  time." 

' '  I  will  take  this  opportunity  of  requesting  that 
you  will  return  my  letters  and  photographs  before 
that  time  shall  arrive,"  said  Stacy. 

Everywhere  in  the  public  /buildings  there  were 
stacks  of  arms  and  patrols  on  guard.  Even  the  Na- 
tional Museum  was  not  free  from  these  props  to  dy- 
nastic power.  It  was  presided  over  by  stupid  negro 
soldiers,  who,  with  bayonets  fixed,  guarded  its  treas- 
ures from  interruption  as  the  dust  of  ages  silently 
settled  upon  them.  Woe  to  the  over-zealous  scientific 
man  who  should  pull  off  his  coat,  remove  his  cuffs, 
and  open  one  of  these  cases,  to  analyze,  compare,  or 
reconstruct  among  its  contents.  The  red  tape  of 
official  displeasure  would  bind  his  hands,  the  laws  of 
official  etiquette  would  restore  coat  and  cuffs  to  their 
places  on  his  person,  the  door  of  the  cabinet  would 


182  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

be  sealed  up,  the  floor  would  be  swept,  and  the  dust 
of  ages  would  settle  as  before. 

44 All  things  are  fossils  here,"  explained  Robinson 
to  Stacy.  u  The  catalogue  has  the  specimens  arranged 
under  different  heads,  but  the  truth  remains  that  all 
are  fossils,  from  the  excellentissimo  savants  who  con- 
trol the  museum,  down  to  the  humble  echinoderm  on 
the  top  shelf.  See  that  stuffed  bird,  how  it  seems 
weary  of  patient  standing  in  one  position  ;  and  that 
alligator,  with  a  spider's  web  spun  across  its  open 
jaws  ;  and  that  piece  of  tourmaline,  how  the  dust  of 
ages  is  dimming  its  lustre.  Nothing  short  of  an 
earthquake  could  throw  any  life  into  this  establish- 
ment." 

uHow  quiet  and  orderly  everything  is  here!"  said 
Stacy.  u  There  is  always  so  much  confusion  in  our 
museums  at  home." 

' 4  Yes, ' '  answered  Robinson.  '  'Our  scientific  men 
are  all  the  time  breaking  up  rocks,  and  blowing  with 
a  blow-pipe,  and  mixing  up  chemicals,  and  magni- 
fying and  photographing,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Their  fingers  are  always  dirty  and  their  clothes  are 
always  spattered." 

"I  think  that,  on  the  whole,  I  will  accept  a  posi- 
tion in  Brazil,"  said  Chester. 

"  Yes,  Chester,"  replied  Robinson,  speaking  with 
sarcasm,  "I  think  that  a  person  of  your  fastidious 
tastes  would  find  it  a  congenial  employment.  The 
scholar,  in  Brazil,  is  always  a  gentleman,  superfi- 
cially at  least.  Neatness  and  precision  in  dress  and 
deportment  are  the  first  qualifications  that  command 
respect.  So  the  young  engineer,  about  to  run  a  rail- 


SEEING   THE  CITY.  183 

road  alignment  across  a  swamp,  has  his  boots  care- 
fully blacked  in  the  morning  and  draws  on  his  kids 
preparatory  to  taking  the  field ;  thus  attired,  he  is 
treated  with  greater  deference  than  an  Eads  or 
Hawkshaw  in  his  old  clothes  would  be.  Our  friend 
the  Naturalist  tells  me  that  he  never  starts  for  a 
tramp  in  the  interior  without  wearing  a  chimney-pot 
hat  and  taking  a  supply  of  linen  shirts  and  collars, 
however  uncomfortable  they  may  be.  He  has  learned 
by  sad  experience  that  without  them  he  will  be 
snubbed.  More  than  once,  he  tells  me,  he  has  come 
to  &fazenda,  all  battered  and  stained  from  a  long  and 
weary  exploration  in  the  wilderness,  and  though  he 
carried  the  best  of  letters  to  the  proprietor,  he  could 
get  only  such  a  reception  as  his  clothes  seemed  to 
warrant.  Here,  above  all  other  places,  the  tailor 
makes  the  man." 

"I  shouldn't  think  he  could  do  much  geology  or 
catch  many  butterflies  in  a  stovepipe  hat  and  a 
standing  collar,"  said  Stacy. 

"  So  he  confesses,  but  then  he  says  that  his  devo- 
tion to  science  is  not  so -great  that  he  is  willing  to 
eat  feijoada  with  the  servants  and  sleep  in  an  out- 
house for  its  sake.  He  would  rather  forego  a  dis- 
covery or  two,  if  by  so  doing  he  can  drink  of  the 
wine  of  the  fazendeiro? s  table  and  get  an  introduc- 
tion to  his  daughters.  He  admits  that  he  is  becom- 
ing a  feather-bed  scientist,  but  claims  that  this  is  the 
inevitable  destiny  of  all  students  who  come  to  this 
country  and  eat  the  lotus  with  its  superficial  aristoc- 
racy. I  don't  know  much  about  these  things,  Stacy, 
but  it  does  seem  to  me  that  the  cause  of  science 


184  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

stands  a  poor  show  in  a  country  where  the  young 
idea  is  trained  to  imitate  Chesterfield  first,  and 
Agassiz  afterward." 

By  this  time  they  had  resumed  their  aimless  walk, 
and  found  themselves  in  the  street  called  Ouvidor, 
the  business  centre  of  the  city,  toward  which  all  of 
the  street-cars  converge,  and,  on  a  pleasant  after- 
noon, unload  there  a  living  freightage  composed  of 
the  wealth  and  beauty  of  the  town.  Though  the 
Broadway  of  Rio,  it  is  so  narrow  that  it  is  almost 
always  shady  there,  whatever  the  hour  of  day;  so 
narrow  that  the  tilburys  and  other  vehicles  are  per- 
mitted to  run  in  one  direction  only;  so  narrow,  in 
fact,  that  it  would  take  an  accomplished  marksman 
to  shoot  a  rifle  down  its  course. 

They  stemmed  its  current  of  restless  humanity  in 
their  brave  determination  to  see  what  there  was  to 
be  seen.  Cigar-stands,  printing-ofiices,  and  the 
shops  of  tailors  were  there  in  a  strange  jumble. 
Fillets  and  clusters  of  diamonds  flickered  through 
the  heavy  plate  of  a  corner  window. 

"Shall  we  go  in  here?"  asked  Stacy.  iCI  am 
tired  of  running  around." 

' '  I'd  rather  not, ' '  replied  her  escort.  ' '  Your  birth- 
day comes  too  soon,  Stacy,  and  I  think  I've  heard 
you  remark  that  the  only  memento  that  you  wished 
to  carry  away  from  here  was  a  Brazilian  diamond. 
Come  a  little  farther,  Stacy.  I  know  a  better  place 
than  this,  where  they  have  Nature's  own  jewelry  for 
sale.  I'll  buy  you  a  bug  whose  splendor  will  eclipse 
the  brightest  dazzle  of  these  paltry  stones." 

He  led  the  way  to  one  of  those  stores,  museum 


SEEING    THE  CITY.  185 

and  mart  combined,  where  all  that  is  strange  and 
beautiful  in  the  animal  life  of  the  tropics  is  exposed 
for  sale.  Here  the  naturalist  comes  to  replenish  his 
cabinet,  the  tourist  for  his  trophies  of  travel,  and 
the  lady  for  her  ball-room  paraphernalia.  It  is  the 
feather-flower  store,  where  not  only  flowers,  but 
fans,  birds,  and  butterflies  contribute  to  the  irides- 
cence of  the  scene. 

In  the  window-seat  a  great  heap  of  green  beetles 
had  been  poured  out  with  the  lavish  hand  of  the 
grocer  who  displays  coffee  and  rice  in  a  similar 
position.  Their  deep  color  was  framed  in  the  rarer 
and  more  lustrous  hues  of  others  which  were  dis- 
tributed around  with  a  more  economical  hand. 
Above  these  were  cases  with  bats,  scorpions,  spiders, 
centipedes,  and  other  unpleasant  company.  Heads 
of  humming-birds,  mounted  on  plates  of  gold, 
flowers  of  all  species,  and  fans  of  all  shapes,  com- 
pleted the  collection. 

"Here  they  speak  English,"  said  Robinson, 
reading  from  the  placard  as  they  entered  the  door. 
A  young  woman  approached  them  to  attend  to  their 
wants. 

uOh,  the  pretty  flower-girl !"  he  continued.  "  I 
wish  she  didn't  understand  English  —  then  I  could 
say  something  nice  to  her." 

Chester  opened  the  conversation. 

"  Those  green  bugs  there  in  the  window  are  com- 
mon enough.  I  used  to  have  a  set  of  them  myself." 

uThey  are  very  hard,"  the  girl  replied;  speaking 
apologetically,  and  with  but  little  foreign  accent. 
"  You  cannot  bite  them  with  your  teeth." 


186  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  All  a  popular  delusion,"  said  the  boy,  with  im- 
portance. "I  used  to  say  so  myself,  and  another 
fellow  asked  me  to  let  him  try  it,  and  I  dared  him  to 
try  it,  and  he  cracked  it  as  easy  as  if  it  was  a  hazel- 
nut.  That's  what  broke  up  my  set.  Have  you  any 
June  bugs  ?" 

"Alas,  no,"  replied  the  girl  in  the  confusion  of 
ignorance,  and  mortified  that  her  customers  should 
be  disappointed  in  the  first  article  of  their  request. 
4  4  But  will  not  the  lady  like  to  look  at  some  pretty 
flowers?" 

She  displayed  a  tempting  profusion  of  coffee, 
orange,  passion-flowers,  and  others,  whose  material 
was  the  plumage  of  birds. 

"  Oh,  there's  one  that  I  know,"  cried  Chester, 
pouncing  on  one  in  the  heap. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Stacy. 

"1  don't  know  what  it  is,  but  it  grows  away  up 
on  the  tip-tops  of  the  highest  trees.  I've  seen  it 
there  myself." 

u He  makes  fun,"  explained  the  shop-girl.  "It 
does  grow  there  —  on  the  parrot's  back.  He  is  a 
funny  boy." 

"What  will  you  have,  Stacy?"  asked  Robinson. 
"Make  your  selection." 

4  i  I  think  I  will  take  this  wreath  and  that  varie- 
gated bouquet,  and  one  of  those  gorgeous  fans  yon- 
der, and  a  set  of  that  beetle  jewelry — not  the  green, 
they  are  old-fashioned  by  this  time  —  and  a  hum- 
ming-bird brooch  for  Pauline,  and  a  pair  of  those 
magnificent  cuff-buttons  for  yourself,  and  —  " 


SEEING   THE  CITY.  187 

"I  wish  we  had  stopped  in  the  diamond  store," 
groaned  Robinson. 

uLet  me  see,  where  was  I?"  resumed  Stacy. 
"  Oh,  yes;  I  must  have  a  pair  of  those  heavenly 
blue  butterflies — have  them  match,  please, —  to  pin 
up  by  my  mirror,  one  on  each  side." 

"To  remind  you  of  the  papilionaceous  nature  of 
your  life,  every  time  you  consult  the  glass.  A  good 
idea.  I'll  buy  them  for  you  willingly." 

"And  I,"  said  Chester,  "will  thank  you  for  that 
stuifed  vampire.  I  want  to  take  it  home  and  tell  the 
folks  that  I  caught  it  tapping  my  big  toe  one  night. 
Then  I  want  that  gallinipper  to  show  as  a  specimen 
of  the  mosquitoes  they  have  down  here;  and  that 
straddle-bug  with  the  lobster  claws  —  I  wonder  if 
they  would  believe  that  was  a  South  American  flea 
if  I  told  them  so  !" 

"And  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want,"  said  Robinson, 
searching  his  pockets  and  concentrating  what  change 
he  could  find.  "I  want  to  go  home  while  I  have 
money  enough  left  for  car  fare." 

"But  we're  going  to  the  market,"  suggested 
Chester. 

"All  right.     Anywhere,  anywhere." 

"Oh,  I  haven't  got  anything  for  mother,"  cried 
Stacy,  as  they  were  about  to  go  out  ' '  Dear  old 
lady,  I  mustn't  forget  her.  I  wonder  if  she  wouldn't 
like  one  of  those  mats  of  down.  However,  I  can 
get  that  when  I  come  again,  I  suppose.  I'll  come 
for  that  next  week,"  added  she,  addressing  the 
flower-girl. 

4 '  Quando  quizer, "  was  the  polite  reply. 


188  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

To  the  market  they  went,  but  they  were  not 
brave  enough  to  penetrate  the  depths  of  that  great 
shed,  reeking  with  a  mingled  odor  which  the  un- 
accustomed nostril  was  powerless  to  analyze.  Wan- 
dering through  its  outskirts,  they  with  difficulty 
avoided  the  gypsy-like  hucksters  squatted  there  on 
the  ground  and  proffering  their  simple  wares  of 
fruit,  confectionery,  -arid  joints  of  the  juicy  sugar- 
cane. Peering  down  the  dark  alleys  of  the  building, 
they  saw  there  the  slouchy  and  clamorous  market- 
women,  whose  gabble  sounded  above  the  chatter 
of  monkeys  and  the  squawking  of  chickens.  Almost 
to  the  roof  their  commodities  were  piled,  while  from 
the  beams  overhead  swung  tripe,  sausages,  and  blown 
bladders,  salt  cod,  over-alls,  and  artichokes.  Ap- 
proaching the  water's  edge,  they  came  to  the  slimy 
quarter  where  crabs,  shrimps  and  other  vermin  of 
the  sea  were  sold. 

"Courage!"  said  Robinson.  UA  few  steps  more, 
and  we  will  be  by  the  side  of  the  bay  and  see  the 
Greek  fishermen  at  their  work.  Perchance  we'll 
hear  them  sing  a  mournful  song  over  their  lost 

liberties,  — 

'Again  to  the  battle,  Achaians ! ' 

or  something  of  that  sort." 

There  they  were,  sure  enough,  a  dirty  crew  of 
Homer's  countrymen,  who  were  cleaning,  salting, 
and  selling  their  finny  plunder,  throwing  the  offal 
wherever  it  chanced  to  fall,  sometimes  in  the  sea 
and  sometimes  on  the  shore.  But  they  were  not 
singing ;  they  were  spinning  yarns  and  swearing. 

"And  these  are  the  men  for  whom  Byron  died," 


SEEING   THE  CITY.  189 

groaned  Robinson.  "  He  might  better  have  gone 
on  writing  poetry." 

At  this  moment  the  wind  changed  and  wafted 
with  it  a  soul-sickening  stench,  "a  very  ancient  and 
fish-like  smell,"  from  the  scene  of  the  Greeks.  It 
made  Stacy  cringe  with  acute  suffering. 

"Oh,  take  me  away!"  she  pleaded,  grasping  Rob- 
inson's arm. 

"  Yes,  I  think  we  have  seen  enough  of  the  market. 
We  can  go  over  it  again  in  our  memory,  you  know, 
at  dinner  and  breakfast.  It  will  naturally  be  a  sub- 
ject of  conversation,  since  everything  we  eat  comes 
from  here.  Oh,  by  the  way,  how  did  you  say  you 
liked  Rio?" 


XVII. 
ENTOMOLOGY. 

America  is  a  great  country,  inhabited  by  many  tribes  of  savage 
people,  who  show  much  difference  in  language,  and  there  are  in 
it  many  strange  animals. — HANS  STADE. 

"XT'OUN'Gr  San  ford,  of  an  important  coffee-ex- 
JL  porting  house  in  Rio,  was  a  resident  at  the 
Hotel  of  the  Strangers,  where  he  turned  his  spare 
moments  to  profit  in  cultivating  the  acquaintance  of 
the  distinguished  people  who  sojourned  there,  thus 
acquiring  a  stock  of  reminiscences  which  might  be 
useful  to  him  in  the  good  society  toward  which  his 
aspirations  tended.  He  was  an  admirer  of  the  Smith 
Family,  Chester  excepted,  albeit  a  little  afraid  of 
Robinson,  who  was  inclined  to  trifle  with  his  feel- 
ings. At  the  present  gathering  of  our  group,  in  their 
parlor  at  nightfall,  after  their  stroll  to  the  market- 
place, young  Sanford  was  a  guest,  having  dropped 
in  to  enjoy  what  he  was  pleased  to  consider  a  call 
on  Miss  Stacy,  but,  abashed  by  the  presence  of  Rob- 
inson, he  occupied  a  retired  corner  and  made  but 
few  remarks. 

Stacy  and  Chester  were  exhibiting  the  treasures 
which  they  had  brought  from  the  feather-flower 
store. 

"Yes,  this  is  the  genuine  vampire,''  said  the 
Naturalist,  holding  up  the  bat.  "You  may  know 
it  by  its  two  upright  ears  at  the  sides  of  its  head, 

190 


ENTOMOLOGY.  191 


and  this  third  appendage,  very  like  an  ear,  which 
ornaments  its  nose.  Notice  the  massive  ferocity  of 
its  mouth;  it  has  the  smile  of  one  of  Nast's  Irish- 
men." 

"Where  do  they  live?"  asked  Chester. 

"Here,  there,  and  everywhere.  If  you  stay  here 
long  enough  one  of  them  will  fly  in  through  your 
open  window  some  night,  fan  you  into  a  painless 
slumber  with  those  great  wings  of  his,  and  phlebot- 
omize you  so  neatly  that  you  will  never  know  it  till 
the  next  morning.  One  came  to  visit  me  one  night 
in  this  very  house,  but  I  happened  to  be  awake  and 
captured  him." 

"  Oh,  the  beast!     How  big  was  he  ?" 

"  Not  very  large.  Only  about  two  feet  from  tip 
to  tip,  with  a  body  like  an  overgrown  rat,  and  teeth 
like  a  cobbler's  awl." 

"  How  did  you  catch  him  ?" 

"  With  a  wet  towel.  That  is  the  best  instrument  of 
capture  for  all  noxious  things  that  fly.  The  wet  towel 
combines  the  weight  of  a  projectile  with  the  envel- 
oping surface  of  a  net,  and  it  is  sure  to  bring  down 
its  game.  Mine  surrendered  after  being  hit  two  or 
three  times  in  its  flight.  Then  I  stifled  it  with  my 
toilet  cachaga,  and  in  the  morning  I, put  it  away  in 
ajar  of  alcohol  where  it  yet  remains." 

At  this  point  young  Sanford,  hitherto  inconspic- 
uous, was  seen  to  squirm  about  upon  his  chair  like 
a  martyr  on  a  gridiron,  grow  red  and  troubled  in 
the  face,  and  appear  to  be  making  a  fruitless  attempt 
to  thrust  one  foot  up  the  other  leg  of  his  pantaloons, 
which  is  hardly  the  course  of  conduct  prescribed  for 


192  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

an  evening  in  the  drawing-room.  Then  he  seemed 
endeavoring  to  tie  his  nether  extremities  into  a  bow- 
knot,  and,  failing  in  that,  he  abruptly  left  the  room 
without  so  much  as  a  word  of  wherefore  or  adieu. 
With  this  exit  he  also  drops  out  of  our  history,  in 
which  he  plays  but  an  incidental  part. 

"When  such  things  happen,"  said  the  Colonel, 
with  a  quiet  chuckle,  "we  all  know  what  it  means." 

"And  when  I  am  visiting  a  young  lady,"  re- 
marked Robinson,  soberly  turning  the  leaves  of  an 
album,  "and  when  we  are  talking  about  moonlight, 
music,  love,  flowers,  and  kindred  subjects,  and  when 
she  suddenly  hears  her  father  calling  her,  although 
I  happen  to  know  that  that  worthy  gentleman  is  just 
then  on  the  other  side  of  the  city  —  I  know  what 
that  means." 

"Yes, "said  Stacy,  languidly  picking  a  rose  to 
pieces,  "and  when  a  certain  young  man  who  cus- 
tomarily wearies  me  for  an  hour  and  a  half  at  a  time, 
remembers  at  the  end  of  the  first  fifteen  minutes 
that  he  has  letters  to  write  home,  although  the 
steamer  does  not  sail  for  a  week  yet  —  I  know  what 
that  means." 

"It  means  fleas!"  observed  Chester,  coming  to 
the  point.  For  the  life  of  him  he  could  not  see  the 
use  of  all  this  circumlocution. 

"  Ches-fer/"  said  Stacy.  "Do  you  consider  that 
a  proper  form  of  speech  ?" 

"  Ana-sta-tia !"  retorted  the  boy,  "who  began 
it?" 

"  Chester  has  said  nothing  wrong, "  observed  the 
Naturalist.  "This  is  not  a  forbidden  topic  in  this 


ENTOMOLOGY.  193 


zone.  Fleas  are  a  climatic  evil,  the  same  as  colds 
and  dark  complexions,  and  so  they  can't  be  other- 
wise than  respectable.  At  least,  they're  no  more 
disreputable  than  mosquitoes." 

"He  might  at  least  have  called  them  pulgas," 
reasoned  Robinson.  "That  would  be  more  polished. 
It  is  so  much  more  elegant  to  use  a  foreign  word 
when  you  want  to  swear  or  say  anything  else  of 
doubtful  propriety." 

The  Naturalist  had  been  turning  over  the  papers 
of  his  card-case. 

' '  Now,  if  there  is  any  dialect  that  is  particularly 
unexceptionable  in  this  world,"  continued  he,  "it  is 
that  of  the  opera-box  ;  and  to  prove  to  you  that  we 
are  not  talking  upon  a  tabooed  subject,  allow  me  to 
read  this  clipping  from  one  of  the  daily  papers." 

He  read  the  following  open  letter : 

"To  THE  ITALIAN  OPERA  COMPANY. —  We  beg  the 
maestro  Senhor  Ferrari  to  have  more  compassion 
on  his  subscribers,  who  are  cruelly  punished  by 
the  great  number  of  fleas  which  infest  the  boxes, 
owing  to  the  want  of  care  and  cleanliness. 

"  Many  Subscribers.^ 

"  We  have  been  to  the  opera,"  said  Chester,  "  we 
know  how  it  is,  ourselves." 

"  Yes,"  added  Robinson,  "  and  although  ours  was 
a  family  group,  I  did  not  dare  to  minister  to  my 
comfort  in  the  way  that  an  impulsive  nature  sug- 
gested." 

"He  didn't  dare  to  scratch,"  whispered  Chester 
to  Pauline,  translating  for  her. 

13 


194  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"The  best  that  I  could  do  was  to  drop  raj  glove, 
and,  in  reclaiming  that,  take  the  opportunity  to  give 
my  ankle  a  knock  and  a  rub.  Agony  ?  I  could  feel 
the  slow  thrills  creep  from  my  boots  to  my  eye- 
brows, and  all  the  time  I  had  to  smile  and  smile  and 
look  unconscious.  But  now  that  we  are  in  the  midst 
of  polite  literature  upon  this  somewhat  impolite  sub- 
ject, just  mark  how  happily  Joaquin  Miller  has 
alluded  to  it  in  these  verses." 

As  if  this  were  a  reading  circle,  each  member  of 
which  had  come  prepared,  he  produced  a  page  of 
manuscript  and  entertained  the  company  as  follows  : 

Brazil  is  the  land  where  adventurers  bold 
Came  hunting  the  Amazon  cities  of  old, 
Whose  street-lamps  were  diamonds  and  pavements  were  gold. 

And  theirs  is  the  spirit  that  rules  there  to-day  — 
All  men  there  are  hunters  in  this  or  that  way ; 
Some  hunting  for  pleasure,  some  hunting  for  pay, 

Some  hunting  for  danger,  some  hunting  for  wealth, 
Some  hunting  for  herbs  that  are  good  for  the  health, 
Some  hunting  with  shot-guns,  some  hunting  by  stealth. 

Perhaps  in  the  forest,  perhaps  in  the  brakes, 
Are  circus-men  hunting  for  monkeys  and  snakes, 
Geologists  hunting  the  cause  of  earthquakes. 

There  artists  are  hunting  the  picturesque  view, 

And  ladies  hunt  butterflies,  green,  buff,  and  blue, 

And  beetles  and  bugs  which  they  stick  sharp  pins  through. 

But  what  their  profession,  these  people  agree 
They're  all  of  them,  all  of  them,  hunters  of  thee, 
Thou  nimble,  elusive  and  fugitive  flea. 

"From  '  Songs  of  the  Sun-lands,'  "  explained  Rob- 
inson complacently,  as  he  folded  the  paper. 

c '  No,  I  do  not  believe  that  Joaquin  Miller  ever 


ENTOMOLOGY.  195 


wrote  that,"  replied  Stacy.  "I  believe  you  wrote 
it  yourself  ;  it  is  such  remarkably  poor  poetry." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am.  I  have  such  unbounded 
confidence  in  the  unreliability  of  your  literary  judg- 
ment that  I  begin  to  have  aspirations,  and  think  I 
shall  try  again." 

fc;  Do.  For  a  young  poet  you  have  one  great  qual- 
ification. You  are  not  ambitious  in  the  choice  of  a 
subject,  but  restrict  your  muse  to  those  themes  to 
which  it  is  adapted.  Allow  me  to  advise  you  to  con- 
tinue as  you  have  begun." 

' '  My  intention,  exactly,  ma'am.  I  have  already 
in  contemplation  an  ode  to  be  read  on  your  approach- 
ing birthday." 

If  they  had  been  married  for  ten  years  they 
could  not  have  discoursed  in  a  more  domestic  strain 
than  this.  The  Naturalist,  not  yet  being  accustomed 
to  these  little  logomachies,  was  alarmed,  and  at- 
tempted to  lead  the  conversation  aside.  Said  he  : 

u  Talking  about —  the  present  subject,  I  was  out 
to  call  on  the  missionary's  wife  last  week,  and  the 
first  words  she  said  to  me  were,  '  Oh,  I  have  such  a 
magnificent  specimen  of  a  pulga  to  show  you.  I  put 
it  in  the  Bible  for  safe-keeping.'  And  she  opened 
that  book,  probably  at  some  appropriate  text — " 

"  'The  wicked  flee,'"  observed  Chester,  winking 
to  his  father. 

" — and  there  it  was,  spread  out  like  a  pressed 
orchid.  She  picked  it  up  in  true  Brazilian  style  ; 
that  is,  she  touched  her  finger  to  her  lips  and  then 
to  the  —  topic  under  discussion,  just  as  if  it  was  a 
bank-note.  It  was  immense,  and  the  lady  was  as 


196  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

proud  of  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  rare  butterfly.  Now, 
there  is  a  woman  with  the  true  scientific  spirit.  She 
cares  for  something  more  than  gaudy  colors  in  her 
collection. " 

"All  this  may  go  to  prove  that  the  subject  at 
present  before  the  house  is  very  respectable,  but  it 
will  take  more  powerful  arguments  to  convince  me 
that  it  is  one  of  the  comforts  of  life,"  remarked 
Robinson. 

"  Or  even  necessary,"  said  the  Colonel.  "I 
don't  believe  it's  a  climatic  evil.  I  believe  it's  the 
ten  million  dogs  that  sleep  on  the  pavement  all  day 
and  raise  the  deuce  all  night.  What  Rio  wants  is  a 
dog-law." 

"A  dog-law  and  water- works,"  said  Robinson. 

"  And  a  new  class  of  people  and  a  new  country 
to  put  them  into,"  added  the  Colonel. 

"That's  a  great  mistake  you  make  there,  Colo- 
nel, —  that  idea  of  yours  about  the  dogs.  I  used  to 
be  of  the  same  belief  until  I  spoke  my  opinion  to  a 
pious  venda-keeper  of  whom  I  was  making  some 
purchases  one  day.  '  No.  no !  '  he  cried.  '  The 
dogs  are  our  greatest  boon.  The  good  God  gives 
us  dogs  so  that  the  pulgas  may  not  devour  us. 
See,  I  have  three  dogs  already,  and  still  the  pulgas 
worry  the  children.  Ambrosina,'  addressing  his 
wife,  '  we  must  have  another  dog. ' ' 

"Let's  coax  this  hotel  to  buy  a  dog,"  pleaded 
Chester.  "Last  night  I  woke  up  in  the  night,  and  I 
had  a  flea  in  one  hand  and  a  mosquito  in  the  other, 
and  if  that  cockroach  hadn't  slid  off  the  pillow  just 
the  minute  he  did,  I  expect  I  would  have  swallowed 


ENTOMOLOGY.  197 


him  raw.     He  was  prospecting  around  my  mouth 
when  I  woke  up." 

"Oh,  papa,  papa,"  cried  Stacy,  "can't  you  stop 
that  boy  ?  " 

"Cockroaches  are  nothing,"  persevered  Chester. 
"  Why,  Polly's  got  a  pet  cockroach." 

"No,  Chester,"  pleaded  Pauline.  "It's  a  bar- 
ata.  Please  call  it  a  barata.  It's  so  much  nicer." 

It  is  perhaps  well  to  state  here  that  the  cockroach 
of  Brazil  is  not  exactly  the  same  animal  as  those 
which  frequent  the  old  dwelling-houses  and  restau- 
rant puddings  of  the  United  States.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  a  larger,  better,  and  more  estimable  kind 
of  a  bug.  In  color  it  is  brown,  with  white  edges,  of 
an  autumnal,  frost-bitten  hue.  In  size  it  rivals  a 
small  mouse.  In  disposition  it  is  sociable  and  affec- 
tionate, its  curiosity  not  being  that  of  the  malevo- 
lent spider,  but  rather  a  friendly  interest  in  human 
affairs.  Let  a  man  enter  his  room  in  the  dusk,  and 
it  is  necessary  for  him  to  pick  his  way  carefully,  else 
he  will  step  upon  one  of  these  little  creatures,  as  they 
run  to  meet  him.  The  result  is  a  startling  pop  as  if 
a  torpedo  had  exploded,  the  foot  slips  as  if  a  banana 
peel  were  under  it,  and  there  is  a  streak  of  mangled 
cockroach  on  the  floor,  all  of  which  is  very  unpleas- 
ant to  a  nervous  temperament.  But  all  of  these 
facts  were  developed  in  the  conversation  of  our 
party. 

"When  I  sit  down  by  my  table  at  night,"  said 
Pauline,  "  it  climbs  upon  the  books  before  me,  and 
waves  its  feelers  to  me,  and  seems  sorry  for  me,  and 


198  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

I  believe  it's  thinking,  c  Why  isn't  she  having  a  good 
time,  as  little  girls  ought  to  have  ? ' ' 

uYes,  Paul,  I  have  one  that  acts  just  the  same 
way,"  said  Robinson.  "It  promenades  around  my 
feet,  and  seems  to  get  fidgety  about  nine  o'clock, 
and  it  thinks,  '  In  about  another  hour  he  will  go  to 
bed,  then,  when  he  is  fast  asleep  and  everything  is 
still  and  quiet,  then  we'll  get  away  with  his  boots. ' " 

"Boots !  "  cried  Chester.  "  You  ought  to  see  my 
red-leather  prayer-book. " 

It  is  perhaps  wise  to  explain  here  that  the  barata 
has  a  decided  taste  for  leather,  and  that  a  pair  of 
slippers  is  its  favorite  diet.  This  is  probably  because 
it  considers  that  article  its  natural  enemy,  since  it  is 
with  a  slipper  that  the  housewife  always  dispatches 
the  roach. 

Pauline  continued:  "  And  when  I  walk  across  the 
floor  in  my  bare  feet,  it  rustles  out  of  the  corner  and 
runs  to  me  and  tries  to  make  me  step  on  it.  I  don't 
like  that  so  well.  Ugh  !  "  and  she  lifted  her  shoul- 
ders in  an  attitude  of  dislike. 

"Oh,  the  pretty  Juggernaut!"  said  Robinson. 
"But  you  must  learn  to  be  cruel,  Paul.  The  day 
will  come  when  a  higher  order  of  animals  than  cock- 
roaches will  throw  themselves  under  those  little 
feet." 

Pauline  did  not  understand  him. 

' '  But  I  think  I  like  my  other  pets  better, "  she 
continued,  musing.  "They  are  never  in  the  way." 

"What  are  they?"  asked  Robinson.  "I  didn't 
know  you  had  any  dogs  and  guinea-pigs." 

"  Trust  a  child  for  finding  pets  wherever  she  may 


ENTOMOLOGY.  199 


go,"  said  the  Naturalist.  "No  zone  is  so  barren 
that  it  does  not  furnish  material  for  a  doll,  and  no 
living  thing  is  so  low  that,  in  case  of  emergency,  it 
may  not  be  loved  by  one  of  these.  A  child's  affec- 
tions are  cosmopolitan." 

"  I  call  them  Twinkle  and  Whistle,"  continued 
Pauline.  "  My  barata's  name  is  Rustle." 

"I  know,"  cried  Chester.  "It's  the  lizard  and 
the  locust.  Just  come  down  with  me  to  the  street- 
lamp  and  I'll  show  you  the  young  crocodile  whisk- 
ing around  there  on  the  glass  after  flies  and  mos- 
quitoes and  millers.  That's  the  way  the  little  joker 
picks  up  a  living.  I  say,  what  an  easy  time  an 
animal  must  have  that  lives  on  bugs  down  here!" 

"Chirp  !  Chir-r-p  !  Chir-r-r-p !  Shri-i-i-i-i-i-ll  /" 
came  the  note  of  a  cigarra  at  this  moment  from  the 
foliage  without. 

"  That's  Whistle  !  "  cried  the  little  girl,  clapping 
her  hands.  "It  knew  I  was  talking  about  it.  It 
sings  for  me  every  night.  I  do  wish  I  could  see  it 
once." 

It  was  one  of  the  greatest  disappointments  of 
Pauline's  life  that  she  never  could  see  this  cicada 
which  sang  so  clearly  for  her  from  its  retreat  in  the 
mimosas  under  her  window,  In  her  imagination  it 
was  as  beautiful  as  a  humming-bird  at  least,  and  to 
cloud  her  childish  faith  by  telling  her  the  truth 
about  the  insect  was  something  that  no  one,  not 
even  Chester,  had  the  heart  to  do.  To  this  day  it 
is  the  little  girl's  firm  belief  that  it  is  not  the  sabia 
but  the  cigarra  that  is  the  song-bird  of  all  others  in 
Brazil. 


200  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"As  for  me,"  exclaimed  Chester,  "  I  want  a 
monkey  to  take  home.  That's  pet  enough  for  me. 
One  of  those  microscopic  monkeys  that  you  can 
carry  to  school  in  your  vest  pocket  and  hide  under 
the  lining  of  the  teacher's  hat.  I'll  make  a  cage 
for  it  out  of  a  match-box.  You  know  what  I  mean 
—  the  kind  the  darky  women  carry  around  the 
streets  on  their  shoulders." 

"A  marmoset,"  explained  the  Naturalist.  "  But 
a  match-box  would  prove  rather  close  quarters,  I 
fancy,  tiny  as  they  are.  It  takes  a  cigar-box  to  make 
a  palace  for  one  of  them.  And  I'm  afraid  you'd  be 
a  rough  keeper  for  so  sensitive  an  animal,  Chester, 
and  the  probabilities  are  that  its  liberated  ghost 
would  haunt  your  dreams  after  the  first  week  at  sea. 
Once  when  I  went  over  to  Europe  there  was  an 
English  family  on  board  who  were  trying  to  trans- 
port a  pair  of  these  marmosets,  but  it  was  in  vain." 

"Why?" 

"  They  never  would  become  thoroughly  domesti- 
cated. Though  not  exactly  afraid,  they  always 
seemed  too  delicate  for  the  touch  of  human  hands, 
and  would  shrink  and  sway  away  and  utter  piteous 
cries  when  even  the  gentlest  overtures  were  made 
toward  them.  Finally  a  sailor  stepped  on  the  toes 
of  one  of  them,  and  that  was  its  death-blow.  It 
held  up  its  bruised  foot  for  a  day  or  two,  refused  its 
banana  rations,  pined  away,  and  died." 

"What  became  of  the  other?" 

"The  thoughtless  boys  had  a  habit  of  driving  it 
out  on  the  scorching  decks,  in  the  full  exposure  of 
the  sun,  to  see  it  dance.  As  one  of  its  tender  feet 


ENTOMOLOGY.  201 


grew  too  hot,  it  would  raise  it,  soon  dropping  it  to 
lift  a  second,  then  another,  and  another,  and  so  on 
with  increasing  rapidity  until  its  toes  twinkled  like 
a  ballet-girl's.  Once  they  were  after  it  as  usual,  and 
had  cornered  it  up  on  the  extreme  edge  of  the 
quarter-deck.  It  turned  one  despairing  glance  on 
its  approaching  persecutors,  gave  one  piteous  cry, 
and  then  jumped  out  into  mid-ocean." 

"  Poor 'thing  !     Did  it  drown  \  " 

"It  turned  immediately  and  swam  after  the  ship, 
but  it  was  an  unequal  race.  We  could  see  it  easily 
as  it  paddled  for  dear  life,  rising  and  falling  with 
the  white  foarn  of  the  vessel's  wake.  Some  kind- 
hearted  person  threw  over  a  nail-keg  for  its  relief. 
It  made  its  way  to  it,  climbed  on  it,  and  there  we 
left  it  as  it  faded  away  into  the  distance.  If  I  were 
asked  to  conceive  a  picture  of  utter  desolation,  I 
would  find  it  here  in  this  sensitive  little  castaway 
riding  its  frail  buoy  a  thousand  miles  from  shore." 

"No  marmosets  for  me,"  said  Chester,  "if 
they've  got  no  more  backbone  than  that.  I  must 
have  a  pet  that  can  stand  it  to  be  loved." 

"Get  an  agouti,"  advised  the  Naturalist. 

"And  what  in  the  world  is  an  agouti  ?  "  demanded 
Chester. 

"It  is  an  animal  with  the  head  of  a  rat  and  the 
size  of  a  cat,  but  with  a  more  vivacious  and  enterpris- 
ing nature  than  either  one  of  these  beasts.  On  that 
same  voyage,  one  of  the  stewards  took  an  agouti 
home  with  him,  and  the  farther  it  travelled  the  more 
it  flourished.  It  soon  became  so  tame  that  it  could 
be  taken  up  into  one's  arms  with  no  more  resistance 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


than  a  slight  murmur  of  protestation.  It  made  itself 
at  home  anywhere  in  the  cabin,  and  also  in  such 
state-rooms  as  it  could  slip  into  in  unguarded  mo- 
ments, to  the  frequent  hysterics  of  the  ladies  whom 
it  surprised  there.  But  it  was  at  dessert,  when  the 
cracking  of  nuts  was  heard  and  the  odor  of  fruit  was 
in  the  air,  that  it  became  most  affectionate.  Then 
it  would  mount  the  bench  and  finally  the  table  itself, 
where  it  perched  itself  on  its  hind  feet,  squirrel- 
like,  and  made  short  work  with  the  almonds  offered 
it." 

"  What  a  barbaric  table  ornament!"  said  Stacy. 

u  Barbaric,  but  not  inappropriate,  since  it  was  a 
nut-cracker.  Its  voracity  was  unbounded.  It  would 
drop  a  nut  that  it  had  gnawed  nearly  through,  in  order 
to  accept  a  fresh  one  that  was  placed  before  it.  The 
passengers  used  to  take  pleasure  in  fooling  it  by 
presenting  to  its  view  the  uninjured  face  of  an  almond- 
shell  whose  kernel  it  had  already  extracted  from  the 
other  side.  Instead  of  weighing  it  or  turning  it 
over  to  examine  it,  as  a  sensible  squirrel  would  have 
done,  this  gormandizer  would  immediately  chip  into 
it  with  its  sharp  teeth  and  nibble  it  through  before 
it  discovered  the  hollow-hearted  deception  that  had 
been  practised  upon  it.  Then  it  would  drop  it  with 
an  impetuous  motion  of  disgust,  only  to  be  imposed 
on  again  and  again.  I  think  we  derived  more  amuse- 
ment from  this  gullible  agouti  than  from  the  sea-sick 
priest  or  the  flirtation  of  the  surgeon  with  the  Span- 
iard's wife." 


XVIII. 
THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER 

With  clearer  light,  Cross  of  the  South,  shine  forth 

In  blue  Brazilian  skies; 
And  thou,  O  river,  cleaving  half  the  earth 

From  sunset  to  sunrise, 
From  the  great  mountains  to  the  Atlantic  waves 

Thy  joy's  long  anthem  pour. 

—  WHITTIER. 

U~TT"THAT  particular  blessed  saint  is  all  of  this 
VV  powder  burned  for  ?  "  asked  the  Colonel,  on 
the  morning  of  the  seventh  of  September,  after  a 
dawn  made  sleepless  by  the  fizz  and  bang  of  un- 
timely pyrotechnics. 

"What  saint?"  replied  Robinson.  uDom  Pedro 
the  First,  the  original  '  Constitutional  Emperor  and 
Perpetual  Defender  of  Brazil,'  whom  his  subjects 
exiled  half  a  century  ago,  and  whom  their  descend- 
ants worship  to-day.  This  is  the  Independence  Day 
of  the  empire. " 

"Good  enough!"  exclaimed  Chester.  "That's 
where  they  are  sensible,  and  have  their  Fourth  of 
July  come  in  the  winter,  so  that  if  a  boy  burns  his 
finger  with  a  fire-work  it  doesn't  hurt  so  bad. " 

"  That  is  a  wise  precaution,  and  should  be  recom- 
mended to  the  statesmen  and  architects  of  future 
nations,"  replied  Eobinson.  "  Our  forefathers  were 
so  thoughtless.  Now,  if  they  had  only  postponed 
their  Declaration  of  Independence  nntil  January, 


204:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

how  much  it  would  have  added  to  the  future  comfort 
of  our  great  republic,  esto  perpetual" 

"  Let's  go  !  "  cried  Chester. 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  his  sister. 

"  To  the  celebration,  of  course.     Where  is  it  ?  " 

"Here,  there,  and  everywhere,"  responded  the 
Naturalist.  "  The  streets  are  full  of  straggling  en- 
thusiasm. But  you  have  missed  the  cream  of  the 
demonstration,  which  was  from  midnight  till  day- 
break. You  should  at  least  have  been  up  at  dawn 
to  hear  the  national  hymn  sung  in  a  grand  chorus  of 
salute  to  the  rising  sun." 

u  What  odd  hours  they  do  keep  here!"  remarked 
Stacy. 

"It  does  seem  odd  to  us  sluggish  Protestants, 
who  are  not  in  the  habit  of  getting  up  for  mass  in 
the  morning,  or  for  five  o'clock  baths  in  the  sea. 
But  the  Brazilians  wisely  enjoy  the  day  while  it  is 
in  its  early  flower,  before  the  sun  has  wilted  it." 

"Won't  there  be  some  speeches  somewhere?" 
asked  Robinson,  in  search  of  entertainment. 

"I  doubt  it." 

"Or  an  ode?  Why,  this  is  the  poet's  golden  op- 
portunity. It  would  be  so  much  cheaper  to  inflict 
his  patriotic  verses  upon  the  public  in  person  than 
to  print  them  in  the  advertising  columns  of  the 
paper." 

"I  haven't  been  able  to  find  any  in  the  pro- 
gramme," said  the  Naturalist.  "  But  it  will  pay  you 
to  walk  out  and  take  a  look  at  the  crowd.  In  visit- 
ing a  foreign  country  one  should  never  miss  the  op- 
portunity of  seeing  the  people  in  their  holiday  dress, 


THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER.  205 

spirits,  and  etiquette.  It  is  an  excellent  occasion 
for  the  study  of  human  nature  and  national  charac- 
teristics." 

"But  is  it  not  dangerous?"  inquired  Stacy,  hav- 
ing in  mind  the  disorder  of  similar  occasions  in  New 
York.  "  And  then  the  police  seem  so  feeble." 

"  So  are  the  roughs  of  a  mild  type,  and  even  yet 
more  feeble.  Their  constitutions,  probably  weak 
and  diseased  from  birth,  are  farther  affected  by  the 
unhealthy  circumstances  of  low  life  in  a  hot  climate, 
so  that  they  seldom  display  any  great  enterprise  in 
crime,  but  limit  themselves  to  such  peccadilloes  as 
the  purloining  of  midnight  chickens  or  chasing  each 
other  about  the  street  with  open  razors, — running 
ainuck  they  call  it." 

"I  would  not  consider  that  a  very  mild  form  of 
roughness,"  said  Robinson.  "I  hope  none  of  them 
will  run  amuck  of  me." 

"  Oh,  you  are  in  no  danger.  In  your  capacity  of 
distinguished  foreigner,  you  are  safe.  When  these 
capoeiros  slaughter  for  fun  and  the  glory  of  their 
households,  they  kill  each  other,  and  nobody  cares. 
When  they  murder  for  business,  they  are  in  the  em- 
ploy of  the  victim's  enemy.  Now,  if  you  were  a 
candidate  for  office  in  the  approaching  election  it 
would  not  be  strange  if,  in  turning  a  street  corner 
on  some  dark  night,  you  were  to  encounter  a  negro 
who  would  draw  a  razor-blade  across  your  person  in 
the  vicinity  of  your  belt,  and  leave  you  there  to  die 
an  unpleasant  death.  Or  if  you  were  an  indepen- 
dent voter,  and  on  election  day  should  walk  down 
the  nave  of  one  of  these  solemn  old  cathedrals 


206  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

whose  dim  religious  light  illuminates  the  ballot-box 
on  the  altar  beyond,  and  if  by  chance  you  should 
hold  in  your  hand  a  ticket  for  the  wrong  man,  the 
zealous  adherents — some  people  call  them  merce- 
nary capoeiros — of  the  right  man  might  break  your 
head  with  a  club  or  eviscerate  you  with  a  razor.  It's 
a  way  they  have  of  doing  here.  As  in  the  United 
States,  the  zealous  adherents  of  the  right  man  are 
very  sensitive  to  any  slight  offered  to  him,  such  as 
voting  for  his  opponent.  However,  since  you 
are  neither  candidate  nor  voter,  and,  as  I  trust,  are 
nobody's  rival  in  love  or  business,  you  may  con- 
sider yourself  safe.  Only  I  would  advise  you  to 
keep  a  little  shy  of  the  vagabond  darkies  who 
prance  and  caper  around  a  marching  band  of  music. 
Music  has  wondrous  power  upon  the  savage  soul, 
and,  inspired  by  its  strains,  the  dancing  capoeiro 
is  liable  to  shoot  from  his  orbit  at  any  moment  and 
kill  a  spectator  or  two." 

"I  don't  believe  I  care  about  going  out  to-day," 
observed  Stacy. 

"And  I  don't  take  as  much  interest  in  human 
nature  and  national  characteristics  as  I  did, "  added 
Chester. 

"  Have  I  frightened  you  ?  I  hope  not.  Consider 
my  picture  overdrawn,  if  you  will.  Running  amuck 
is  not  so  common  a  pastime  as  it  used  to  be  when 
the  slave  trade  was  yet  in  vogue  and  cargoes  of  un- 
regenerate  Congo  heathen  were  dumped  on  these 
shores.  You'd  better  go.  You  will  find  a  very  de- 
cent, well  behaved,  and  good-natured  concourse  of 
people,  take  my  word  for  it.  And  as  for  danger, 


THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER.  207 

I'll  venture  to  say  that  you  will  meet  with  none  more 
terrible  than  a  rocket  stick  or  an  American  sailor." 

It  was  as  he  prophesied.  Although  the  lively 
imagination  of  Chester  saw  murder  in  the  face  of 
every  jovial  negro,  and  a  razor  handle  protruding 
from  his  pocket,  yet  they  met  with  no  rudeness  or 
insolence  from  any  source.  They  wedged  their  way 
through  the  densest  masses  of  embodied  patriotism, 
accidentally  crushing  a  corn  here  and  dislocating  a 
toilet  there,  without  provoking  a  single  impolite 
remonstrance  in  the  way  of  hustling,  chaffing  or 
malediction.  The  upper  classes  were  conspicuously 
courteous,  while  the  working  people  and  slaves  who 
compose  the  understratum  of  society  —  very  dirty, 
as  it  is  natural  for  understrata  to  be  —  were  re- 
spectful even  to  servility. 

It  was  not  even  an  enthusiastic  crowd,  as  emo- 
tional display  is  incompatible  with  that  dignity  upon 
which  the  Brazilian  prides  himself.  Besides,  intox- 
ication, that  prime  motor  of  enthusiasm,  was  rare, 
and  the  moment  a  subject  began  to  show  signs  of 
spread-eagleism  he  was  led  away  to  a  "season  of 
good  living  "  as  the  police  reporters  facetiously  desig- 
nate a  term  of  imprisonment.  It  seems  that  these 
chroniclers  of  crime  in  every  country  will  have  their 
little  joke,  and  that  one  man's  misery  is  another 
man's  mirth  all  the  world  over. 

Where  the  people  mostly  congregate  on  days  of 
national  rejoicing  is  the  square  of  the  Constitution, 
in  whose  centre  stands  the  magnificent  equestrian 
statue  of  Dom  Pedro  I,  the  finest  and  almost  the 
only  public  work  of  art  in  Brazil.  It  surmounts  a 


208  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

pedestal  upon  whose  faces  are  four  groups  symboliz- 
ing the  great  rivers  of  Brazil,  the  Parana,  the  San 
Francisco,  the  Amazon,  and  the  Madeira,  each  rep- 
resented by  the  wild  Indians  and  wild  animals  that 
are  characteristic  of  its  valley. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  him?"  asked  Eob- 
inson  of  Stacy,  after  they  had  gazed  to  their  hearts' 
content. 

"He  has  a  right  kingly  presence,"  she  replied. 
"He  must  have  been  a  popular  man,  if  this  statue 
does  not  lie.  Such  a  man  as  that  could  ride  down 
the  street  and  carry  the  hearts  of  the  multitude  with 
him.  There  is  more  dash  about  him  than  about  the 
present  Pedro.  This  man  could  be  a  soldier,  a 
knight,  and  a  lover,  as  well  as  an  emperor.  Our 
Pedro  looks  too  much  like  a  college  professor." 

"  He  was  an  awful  rake,"  said  Robinson. 

"Was  he?" 

Stacy  did  not  appear  greatly  shocked  by  this  infor- 
mation. Strict  though  she  was,  she  could  pardon 
much  to  an  emperor,  and  a  handsome  one  like  this. 
She  gazed  at  the  figure  again. 

"No,  he  does  not  look  like  a  very  good  man," 
she  said. 

"  Considering  the  fact  that  a  colossal  bronze  stat- 
ue is  not  usually  a  correct  index  to  the  character  of 
the  person  that  it  represents,  I  am  willing  to  admit 
that  you  have  passed  a  very  just  judgment  upon  the 
monarch  before  us." 

"You  seem  to  know  about  him.  Tell  me  his  his- 
tory, please.  My  historical  studies  did  not  come 


THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER.  209 

down  much  farther  than  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans 
and  Charles  Y." 

"  All  right,"  responded  Robinson,  cheerfully. 
"  Most  happy  to  air  my  knowledge  before  an  audi- 
ence incapable  of  detecting  mistakes. 

'  —  let  us  sit  upon  the  ground.' " 

"I  think  we'll  find  one  of  these  benches  more 
comfortable,"  interposed  Stacy. 

"  There,  you  have  interrupted  me  in  one  of  my 
best  quotations,  especially  committed  to  memory  for 
an  occasion  like  this." 

uBeg  pardon,"  said  Stacy,  humbly.  "  Pray  go 
on." 

Robinson  resumed  the  broken  verse  with  varia- 
tions of  his  own. 

"  *  For  G-od's  sake,  let  us  sit  upon  the  ground, 
And  tell  sad  stories~of  the  death  of  kings ; 
How  some  have  been  deposed  —  some  slain  in  war  — 
Some  haunted  by  the  ghosts  they  have  deposed  — 
Some  poisoned  by  their  wives — some  sleeping  killed; ' 

how  Peter  the  First  abdicated  and  went  to  Europe, 
and  Peter  the  Second  got  a  leave  of  absence  and 
went  to  the  Centennial ;  how  the  daring  hand  of  this 
dashing  Peter  the  First  snatched  an  empire  from  the 
wreck  of  Portugal's  power,  and  the  wise  head  and 
kind  heart  of  the  professorial  Peter  the  Second  have 
made  this  imperial  estate  respected  among  the  nations 
of  the  earth.  Chester,  brace  up.  Listen  to  me,  and 
stop  your  intrigues  with  those  maidens  fair. 

"A  little  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  this  Peter 
the  First  was  Prince  Regent  of  the  colony  of  Brazil, 
under  his  father.  John  the  Sixth  of  Portugal.  But, 

14 


210  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

being  an  ambitious  young  man,  he  fretted  under  the 
yoke  of  the  Court  at  Lisbon,  and,  in  so  doing,  received 
the  full  sympathy  of  all  Brazilians,  who  were  ex- 
tremely jealous  of  the  Portuguese  satraps  who  ruled 
them  in  camp  and  court,  and,  with  the  example  of 
the  United  States  fresh  before  them,  were  anxious 
to  put  an  end  to  foreign  domination.  Prince  Pedro 
found  his  opportunity  in  the  year  1822.  He  was 
then  travelling  with  his  suite  up  in  the  interior,  in 
San  Paulo.  A  courier  came  to  him  with  despatches 
that  were  more  than  usually  galling  and  oppressive. 
His  princely  spirit  rebelled.  Then  and  there,  on  the 
open  plains  of  Ypiranga,  he  made  his  short  and 
pithy  proclamation,  'Independence  or  Death!' 
which  speech,  printed  upon  a  badge,  he  made  his 
subjects  wear  upon  their  persons,  at  the  penalty  of 
being  exiled  if  they  refused. 

"  As  you  see,  it  turned  out  to  be  independence, 
and  a  prosperous  one,  too.  So  highly  is  the  author 
of  this  independence  esteemed,  that  he  is  known  here, 
in  rhetorical  display,  as  the  Washington  of  Brazil, 
than  which  no  higher  compliment  could  be  paid. 
As  the  present  emperor  could  with  even  greater  fit- 
ness be  called  the  Lincoln  of  his  country,  it  will  be 
seen  that  this  empire  has  been  exceedingly  fortunate 
in  its  rulers,  having  escaped  all  of  the  intermediate 
Polks,  Pierces  and  Buchanans." 

uBut  why  did  the  Brazilians  exile  so  excellent  a 
monarch?"  asked  Stacy. 

4 '  For  the  evil  that  he  did  in  entertaining  ultra- 
marine sympathies  and  in  showing  partiality  to  the 
hated  Portuguese." 


THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER.  211 

"  Then  why  did  they  build  him  this  monument? 
It's  all  a  puzzle  to  me." 

"  For  the  good  that  he  did  in  establishing  their 
independence.  Why  did  Brutus  stab  Caesar  ?  For 
the  sake  of  imperilled  Rome.  Why  did  he  weep 
over  his  death  ?  In  memory  of  his  fallen  greatness. 
The  exile  was  the  stab  which  Dom  Pedro  received 
from  his  countrymen  ;  this  statue  and  this  day  rep- 
resent the  tears  of  love  and  gratitude  with  which 
they  do  him  honor.  Is  it  so  strange  a  thing  that  a 
nation  should  be  just  as  well  as  generous  in  its  treat- 
ment of  its  heroes  ?  " 

"And  so  they  have  only  had  two  rulers  since  they 
began  housekeeping  for  themselves  ? " 

' ;  Only  two  ;  father  and  son.  The  present  Pedro 
has  occupied  the  chair  since  the  compulsory  abdica- 
tion of  the  first  emperor  in  1831,  when  the  boy  prince 
was  only  six  years  old." 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  myself  for 
confessing  such  unpatriotic  sentiments,"  Stacy  re- 
marked, musing,  "but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  this 
stability  of  government  is  better  than  the  transitory 
state  of  things  over  in  these  South  American  repub- 
lics, where  they  change  their  presidents  as  often  as 
they  change — " 

" — their  other  fashions,"  interposed  Robinson, 
coming  to  her  assistance.  "Yes,  we  may  as  well 
admit  that  there  is  a  possibility  of  good  in  a  mon- 
archy, after  all ;  that  is,  for  certain  peoples,  though 
of  course  it  wouldn't  do  for  us.  In  a  country  over- 
crowded with  a  penurious  aristocracy,  with  an  abun- 
dance of  younger  sons  unprovided  for  and  ashamed 


212  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

to  work,  nothing  but  an  imposing  throne  and  a  rev- 
erence for  it  will  keep  the  revolutionary  spirit  in 
subjection.  To  preach  the  theory  there  that  any 
man  may  be  president,  is  to  incite  the  great  horde 
of  adventurers  out  of  office  to  strive  and  plot  and 
fight  for  this  position  by  any  means,  fair  or  foul  —  but 
mostly  foul;  and  every  few  mornings  a  new  dictator 
will  ride  into  the  chief  magistracy  with  a  hungry 
retinue  behind  him.  As  you  are  perhaps  aware, 
Stacy,  I  do  not  admire  the  abject  prostration  of  loyal 
Britons  before  their  throne,  however  imbecile  or  dis- 
solute may  be  its  occupant ;  but  still  this  reverence 
is  good  for  the  national  quiet." 

"  So  are  anaesthetics  good  for  quiet,"  remarked 
Stacy.  "  But  are  they  healthful  ? " 

"  Perhaps  not.  But  there  is  no  great  danger  that 
political  ambition  in  any  country  will  suffer  from  too 
much  lethargy.  As  I  was  going  to  say,  as  long  as 
England's  chief  place  is  reserved  for  the  Lord's 
specially  anointed,  the  great  apple  of  discord  is 
withheld  from  her  statesmen  ;  the  best  that  they  can 
hope  for  is  to  be  prime  minister  and  power  behind 
the  throne,  and  that  does  not  count  much  in  the 
popular  esteem.  What  is  it  that  Pope  said  —  some- 
thing about  a  king  being  only  a  scarecrow  of  straw, 
but  it  preserves  the  corn  all  the  same  ? " 

"  That's  pretty  talk  for  you,"  growled  Chester. 
"Bight  under  the  stars  and  stripes,  too." 

Having  resumed  their  walk,  they  were  at  that 
moment  at  a  point  in  the  street  where  they  were 
almost  fanned  by  the  waving  folds  of  an  American 


THE  SEVENTH  OF  SEPTEMBER.  213 

flag  which  some  lover  of  freedom  had  extended  from 
roof  to  roof. 

"  O  the  beauty !"  cried  Stacy,  with  fervor.  u  Let's 
stand  under  it.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  mj  mother's 
arms  again.  I  retract  all  of  my  heresies,  and  will 
never  say  so  any  more.  Isn't  the  sight  of  it  refresh- 
ing?" 

"And  I,  too,  I  come  back  to  my  first  love,"  said 
Kobinson.  "I  didn't  really  mean  what  I  said.  I 
only  said  it  out  of  courtesy  to  the  national  day  of 
the  country  whose  guests  we  are,  as  distinguished 
travellers  always  flatter  the  reception  committees 
who  come  to  meet  them.  I  agree  with  you,  Stacy. 
That's  the  finest  flag  that  floats,  and  sailors  all  the 
world  over  agree  that  they  can  recognize  these  colors 
farther  than  the  bunting  of  any  other  nation.  Shall 
we  give  three  cheers  ?  " 

"Not  just  here,  please.  But  you  may  take  off 
your  hats  if  you  wish." 

"Ah,  there's  the  constellation  for  you,"  pursued 
Robinson.  "There's  the  cluster  of  stars  that  illu- 
minates the  world.  "What  is  their  boasted  Southern 
Cross,  compared  with  this  ?  And,  by  the  way,  what 
a  gigantic  fraud  is  that  inconspicuous  and  irregular 
quadrilateral  of  lesser  lights  which  they  are  pleased 
to  consider  cruciform  in  shape  !  Why,  in  our  north- 
ern sky  I  can  pick  out  a  dozen  better  crosses  than 
that.  G-oncalves  Dias  indulged  his  poetic  license 
too  far  when  he  said  that  his  skies  had  more  stars 
than  ours." 

"It   seems   to   me   that  you  are  atoning   almost 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


too  zealously  for  your  recent  disloyalty,"  observed 
Stacy. 

"  Oh,  I  am  nothing  if  not  patriotic.  Just  notice 
how  airy  and  tasty  our  red,  white,  and  blue  are,  and 
how  flagrantly  gaudy  the  Brazilian  green  and  yellow 
appear.  You  see  this  combination  everywhere,  on 
the  flags,  the  decorations,  and  the  arches,  and  nature 
has  even  daubed  it  on  some  of  the  vegetation  which 
grows  here,  for  there  is  a  shrub,  with  a  green  and 
yellow  leaf,  which  is  called  the  '  national  tree  '  or 
the  '  imperial  plant  '  or  some  such  characteristic 


XIX. 

HOME,  SWEET  HOME. 

She  went  through  Sorocaba, 

Through  Guaratingueta, 
Through  Pindamonhangaba, 

Through  Jacarepagua. 
At  last  in  Cacapava 

A  police  captain  brave 
Made  up  his  mind  to  have  her 

Arrested  as  a  slave.    — ARTHUR  AZEVEDO. 

44  "TT'S  awful  bad,  but  it's  so  funny." 

J-  This  was  Pauline's  verdict  on  their  household 
pet,  Wicked,  the  parrot.  This  bird  was  a  gift  from 
the  Naturalist,  who  had  picked  it  up  in  the  course 
of  his  Amazonian  travels,  and,  holding  that  there  is 
but  one  good  use  to  which  this  unsentimental  fowl 
can  be  put,  which  is  to  give  him  away,  lost  no  time 
in  transferring  him  to  the  Smith  family.  Robinson 
had  christened  him  Depravity,  but  this  name  was 
soon  corrupted  into  Wicked,  a  word  equally  expres- 
sive and  more  convenient.  What  there  was  so  bad 
in  this  parrot,  Chester  could  never  understand.  Be- 
sides, what  is  the  use  of  having  a  good  parrot  ?  You 
might  as  well  have  an  owl,  and  be  done  with  it. 
This  one  could  not  even  swear,  profanity  being  an 
accomplishment  in  which  the  Brazilians  are  sadly 
deficient ;  and  as  for  gossip  or  impertinence,  he  did 
not  even  know  what  these  words  meant. 

By  degrees,  as  Chester's  appreciation  of  Wicked 

215 


216  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

grew  fainter  and  fainter,  his  sisters  came  to  like  the 
bird,  which  was  not  slow  to  return  their  fondness. 
When  little  Pauline  came  near  his  perch,  Wicked 
would  step  around  uneasily  in  his  stilted  way,  curve 
his  neck  to  her,  and  call  "J&minaf  Menina!" 
until  he  received  some  notice  from  her  hands.  And 
when  Stacy  came  to  fondle  him,  he  laid  his  beak  of 
horn  against  her  soft  cheek,  and  with  his  toothless 
jaws  he  produced  that  indescribable  labial  sound 
which  appears  so  broad  and  absurd  in  all  attempts 
at  printing  it,  except  in  the  first  impression  of  print- 
ing it  upon  another  pair  of  lips.  In  other  words,  he 
kissed  her. 

It  was  a  trick  that  she  had  taught  him,  among 
other  habits  of  our  higher  civilization.  •  A  course  of 
one  lesson  was  sufficient.  With  so  great  gusto  did 
he  take  to  his  new  task,  that  there  can  be  no  longer 
any  doubt  that  there  is  something  human  in  the 
parrot's  intelligence  and  nature. 

"  It's  too  funny  for  any  thing,  "said  Stacy,  as  she 
received  this  token  of  affection ;  and  she  laughed  a 
quiet  little  laugh  of  amusement  and  delight.  The 
parrot,  imitative  that  he  was,  thought  that  a  part  of 
the  lesson,  put  it  away  in  his  memory,  and  ever 
afterward,  as  he  kissed  his  mistress,  he  blinked  his 
eyes  solemnly  and  relapsed  into  a  chuckle  of  satisfac- 
tion which  was  half  mockery,  half  echo  of  the  girl's 
musical  tones. 

"It's  the  parody  of  a  laugh,"  said  Robinson. 
"  But  as  for  the  other  part  of  the  performance,  it  is 
perfect,  and  reflects  credit  upon  the  instructive  pow- 
ers of  his  teacher.  If  this  same  teacher  would  like 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  217 

to  open  an  evening  school  of  one  scholar,  I  wouldn't 
mind  joining  the  class." 

Yet  Wicked  continued  to  bear  his  misnomer  and 
reputation  of  being  a  bad  bird.  Perhaps  this  was 
owing  to  his  inordinate  taste  for  opera  bouffe.  Like 
all  the  civilized  parrots  —  and  people  —  of  Brazil,  he 
knew  the  famous  music  of  u  Madame  Angot,"  and 
could  whistle  it  without  missing  a  note.  This  was 
entertainment  for  Chester. 

"Hear!  Hear!"  he  cried.  "It  is  the  national 
hymn  of  Brazil." 

"Why,  Chester!"  Stacy  exclaimed.  "Aren't 
you  ashamed  of  yourself?  " 

"  It  is,"  the  boy  maintained,  stoutly.  "  I  guess  I 
know  what  I'm  talking  about.  I  guess  I  know 
something,  if  I  am  a  boy.  I  know  they've  got, 
another  one  that  they  play  twice  a  year,  but  that 
doesn't  make  it  a  national  hymn,  even  if  they  do  call 
it  so.  They  can't  make  such  things  by  law.  Now, 
here's  this  '  Madame  Angot,'  everybody  sings  that, 
the  circus  horses  dance  to  it,  the  girls  play  it  upon 
their  pianos,  the  music-boxes  tinkle  it,  and  the  news- 
boys and  parrots  whistle  it.  If  that  doesn't  make  it 
national,  what  does  ?  " 

"I  suppose  you  will  say  that  we  haven't  any  na- 
tional hymn,  next." 

"Oh,  yes,  we  have;  lots  of  them,  a  new  one  every 
year.  I  don't  know  what's  the  rage  this  summer. 
4  Gentle  Spring '  and  '  Hold  the  Fort '  were  about  the 
last  on  the  roll." 

"  Our  boy  is  turning  philosopher,"  observed  Rob- 
inson. "Let's  encourage  him  You're  right, 


218  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Chester.  '  Hail  Columbia '  is  not  a  national  hymn, 
even  if  they  do  play  it  when  the  militia  get  into 
their  uniforms." 

"But  I  know  one  that  is  national  "  said  Stacy. 
She  went  to  the  piano  and  sang  — 

''Home,  home,  sweet,  sweet  home, 

Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home." 

Hers  was  not  the  voice  of  a  bird,  nor  even  of  an 
operatic  expert ;  but  as  she  forgot  herself  and  her 
embarrassment  and  thought  only  of  the  home  where 
her  mother  was  waiting  for  her,  she  poured  such 
pathos  and  yearning  into  this  song  of  exile  that  the 
music  swept  through  the  sleepy  old  hotel  like  a 
breath  of  fresh  air  from  the  far  distant  north.  In  all 
parts  of  this  Hotel  of  the  Strangers  in  a  foreign 
land,  the  guests  felt  its  influence.  It  was  like  a 
child's  laugh  in  a  penitentiary.  The  strong  men  who 
were  lounging  in  the  chairs  at  the  front  door  re- 
pented, and  thought,  one  after  another,  "What  a 
fool  I  am !  Here  I  am  lazily  going  to  the  devil  in 
this  country  when  I  might  as  well  be  back  home  and 
have  such  a  girl  as  that  for  a  wife." 

The  late  diners,  yet  at  table,  dropped  wine-glass 
and  banana  and  sat  in  silence  to  listen.  Long  before 
the  end  of  the  song,  little  Pauline  had  lost  her  face 
in  the  pillow  of  the  sofa  and  was  crying  silently; 
while  Chester,  leaning  back  with  his  hands  clasped 
above  his  head,  thought:  "Ho,  hum!  About  this 
time  the  fellows  are  getting  back  to  school  again.  I 
wonder  who's  got  the  biggest  stories  to  tell  about 
vacation  ! " 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  219 

Bemvindo,  who  was  standing  just  without  the 
door,  in  convenient  reach,  closed  his  eyes  in  rapture 
and  learned  every  note  as  the  music  progressed. 
"Yer'  good,  ver'  sweet,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  it 
closed.  At  the  end  of  the  next  half-hour  he  could 
whistle  it  in  all  of  its  depth  of  desolate  longing. 
Then  he  gave  it  to  the  hall  porter,  who,  loitering  in 
the  doorway,  whistled  it  to  the  tilbury  man  who  was 
waiting  there.  The  latter  worked  it  over  as  he 
returned  down  town,  and  taking  up  his  stand  there 
discoursed  it  for  the  benefit  of  the  Italian  bootblacks 
and  the  quadroon  doce-vendors,  and  then  it  was  popu- 
larized indeed.  In  this  manner  the  beautiful  music  of 
"Home,  Sweet  Home,"  was  introduced  into  Brazil. 
It  was  not  recorded  in  the  custom-house,  nor  was  it 
advertised  in  the  newspapers ;  yet  who  shall  say  that 
Stacy  Smith's  contribution  toward  the  enlighten- 
ment of  Brazil  was  not  as  important  as  the  truss 
bridges  and  the  patented  machines  which  her  coun- 
trymen are  constantly  importing  there  ? 

It  is  necessary  now  to  go  to  the  third  day  after  this 
in  order  to  find  the  proper  conclusion  to  this  chapter. 
The  evening's  entertainment  began  with  a  little 
comedy,  opened  by  Chester.  The  boy  was  amusing 
himself  with  Wicked,  much  to  the  latter's  disgust. 
The  boy  was  in  a  playful  humor ;  the  bird  was  not. 
Chester  invited  the  parrot  to  step  upon  his  finger. 
The  parrot  retreated  along  his  perch  and  said,  in  a 
tone  of  warning — 

"  Wh-r-r-r!" 

Chester's  finger  pursued,  alternately  stroking  and 


220  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

punching  the  bird,  which  again  gave  the  threatening 
signal  — 

"  Wh-r-r-r!" 

This  admonition  not  being  regarded,  and  Wicked 
now  having  sidled  to  the  end  of  his  chain,  he  deemed 
himself  justified  in  proceeding  to  extreme  measures, 
and  he  deliberately  took  a  bite  out  of  Chester's 
forefinger. 

"  O  Pindamonhangaba  !  "  yelled  the  boy. 

This  strange  ejaculation  appeared  very  like  what 
one  would  suppose  a  Portuguese  pirate's  oath  would 
be.  At  least,  so  thought  Stacy. 

"Papa,  papa  !  "  cried  she.  uDid  you  hear  that? 
This  awful  boy  is  learning  to  swear." 

"Swear?"  asked  the  Colonel,  throwing  aside  his 
paper.  "I  am  shocked.  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

Stacy  felt  neither  competent  nor  inclined  to  repeat 
the  expression. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  it  was,"  replied  she.  "  It 
was  something  dreadful." 

' 4  It  was  the  name  of  a  little  town  out  here  in  the 
country,"  observed  Chester  coolly,  but  with  sup- 
pressed amusement. 

u  Well,  be  careful,  my  child,  how  you  ornament 
your  conversation,  or  some  day  you  may  go  to  a 
worse  place  than  —  what's  the  word  ?  " 

"  Pinda-monhan-gaba,"  said  Chester,  beating  time 
to  the  syllables.  "You  pronounce  it  in  three  times 
and  six  motions,  as  the  soldiers  say." 

"The  word  is  common  enough  now,  since  the 
opening  of  the  new  railroad,"  said  Robinson,  "Jbut 
it  is  a  recent  acquisition  to  the  popular  language  of 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  221 

Brazil.  Think  of  a  language  receiving  so  much 
acquisition,  all  in  one  word  !  " 

"What  a  word!"  mused  the  Colonel.  "And 
what  barbarity  to  teach  Brazilian  geography  to  an 
infant  class !  " 

"It  is  not  bad,  if  you  only  give  it  the  proper 
cadence,"  asserted  the  Naturalist.  "It  is  no  worse 
than  Jequitinhonha,  Tupynambaranas,  Paranapa- 
nema,  and  a  thousand  others  of  the  same  sort,  not 
to  mention  ipecacuanha,  jaboticaba,  and  the  like, 
which  are  in  common  use.  You  see,  they  are  Indian 
words,  and  the  Italian  language  itself  is  not  more 
beautiful  than  some  of  these  aboriginal  dialects 
when  spoken  with  their  native  rhythm.  Just  hear  me 
now." 

He  repeated  these  words  with  the  undulating  in- 
tonation common  in  Brazil.  Stacy  was  obliged  to 
confess  that,  thus  rendered,  they  were  very  musical. 

"Fancy  how  mellifluously  c Pindamonhangaba ' 
must  have  rolled  from  the  lips  of  an  Indian  prin- 
cess," continued  the  Naturalist. 

"Yes,"  growled  the  Colonel,  "and  fancy  how 
mellinuously  it  must  roll  from  the  lips  of  a  brake- 
man  in  a  hurry  as  the  train  approaches  Pindamon- 
hangaba. Under  a  Yankee  management,  this  ex- 
traordinary word  would  be  abbreviated  in  the  first 
schedule.  Beauty  and  melody  are  all  very  well  in 
the  nomenclature  of  railway  stations,  but  time  and 
convenience  are  the  principal  considerations,  after  all. 
But  pshaw  !  this  people  has  yet  to  learn  that  names 
are  made  for  use,  and  not  for  ornament  or  personal 
glorification.  Just  look  at  the  Street  of  the  Seventh 


222  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

of  September,  the  Street  of  the  Viscount  of  White 
River,  the  Street  of  the  Fountain  of  Affectionate 
Longing,  and  the  Street  of  the  Volunteers  of  Their 
Fatherland  !  A  man  could  go  to  one  of  these  places 
in  the  time  that  it  takes  to  ask  where  it  is." 

"  When  it  comes  to  my  favorite,"  interrupted 
Chester,  "  mine  is  the  Street  of  the  Little  Princess  of 
the  Cashew  Trees." 

4 'All  of  these,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "had 
other  names  a  few  years  ago,  and  will  change  again 
as  soon  as  certain  events  are  forgotten  or  certain  men 
die  or  go  into  disfavor.  I  have  faint  hopes  of  a 
nation  that  runs  to  words  in  that  astonishing  manner." 

The  Colonel  was  disgusted.  In  the  transaction  of 
his  business,  whatever  that  might  be,  he  had  seen 
so  many  hours  of  time  and  sheets  of  paper  wasted 
in  salutations,  signatures,  and  other  ceremonials,  that 
his  practical  nature  chafed  under  the  restraint  of  too 
much  red-tape. 

"I  know  one  place  where  the  name  '  Pindamon- 
hangaba'  serves  a  very  beneficent  use,"  said  Robin- 
son. 

"  Where  ?" 

"Down  at  the  American  restaurant.  They  have 
the  Pindamonhangaba  cobbler  there.  I  have  the 
honor  to  invite  the  gentlemen  of  the  present  com- 
pany around  there  in  the  morning  to  sample  it." 

"  I  have  yet  to  see  anything  particularly  beneficent 
in  this  application  of  the  word,"  said  Stacy. 

"  Let  me  explain,"  pursued  Robinson.  "  It  is  this. 
It  is  easy  to  realize  that  a  man  must  have  more  than 
ordinary  control  over  his  tongue  to  be  able  to  call 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  223 

for  a  second  Pindamonhangaba  mixed  drink,  and 
so  this  extreme  length  of  word  is  conducive  to  habits 
of  temperance." 

"Ah,  indeed  !" 

' '  In  fact,  this  is  the  shibboleth  of  the  moderate 
drinker.  As  long  as  he  can  call  for  Pindamonhan- 
gaba cobblers  in  an  unbroken  voice,  he  feels  tolera- 
bly confident  that  he  can  converse  with  his  wife 
coherently  and  without  self-betrayal.  When  he  be- 
gins to  doubt  his  condition,  he  walks  over  to  the  bar, 
and  addressing  the  whiskey  puncher  there,  says : 

'Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  shake  me  up 
another  Pindanoniongaba  cobbler  ? '  The  mixer  of 
drinks  smiles  blandly  and  replies,  '  The  article  is  not 
on  our  list,  sir.'  The  man  walks  across  the  room, 
stares  for  a  few  moments  at  the  advertisements  on 
the  opposite  wall,  collects  his  thoughts,  bites  his 
tongue  to  wake  it  up,  and  makes  another  charge  on 
the  bar.  'A  Pin handagonhanjobber  cobbler !'  'A 
what  ? '  asks  the  brandy  smasher,  with  an  air  of 
astonishment.  'A  Panhandlegoandgetthere  cob- 
bler.' 'Come,  now,'  says  the  gin-slinger.  'This  is 
no  time  and  place  for  joking.  What  do  you  want, 
any  way  V  'I  don't  believe  I  want  anything  more 
to-night,'  replies  the  discomfited  inebriate.  '  I  prom- 
ised my  folks  that  I  would  be  home  about  this 
time.'" 

Stacy  had  not  evinced  great  interest  in  this  reci- 
tal. She  had  gone  to  the  window,  and,  at  the  first 
lull  in  the  conversation,  she  turned  with  her  finger 
on  her  lip. 


224  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  Listen  !"  she  said.  "  It  is  '  Home,  Sweet  Home.' 
Somebody  is  whistling  it.  I  wonder  where  he 
learned  it  ?  " 

She  had  already  forgotten  her  lesson  of  a  few 
evenings  before. 

The  notes  were  as  clear  and  as  plaintive  as  the 
song  of  a  caged  bird. 

"If  my  ears  do  not  deceive  me,"  said  Chester, 
"that  is  Bemvindo's  whistle." 

"Poor  boy,"  said  Stacy,  compassionately.  "I 
know  there  are  tears  in  his  eyes.  I  wonder  if  he  is 
away  from  home,  too." 

"Undoubtedly,"  replied  Eobinson.  "But  111 
venture  to  say  that  a  prize  in  the  lottery  wouldn't 
induce  him  to  go  back  to  it.  He  is  too  well  fixed 
where  he  is.  The  boy  doesn't  know  what  he  is 
whistling  about.  It  is  the  music,  and  not  the  song, 
that  is  so  affecting.  The  words  are  nothing.  You 
can  find  better  poetry  any  day  in  the  trashy  and 
transient  contents  of  our  literary  weeklies.  And  yet 
some  misguided  admirers  are  putting  up  a  monument 
to  the  author  of  the  piece,  when  they  don't  even 
know  the  composer's  name." 

"Oh,  I  don't  like  that  talk!"  protested  Stacy. 
"It  sounds  unjust." 

"It's  so,"  averred  Robinson.  "If  you  don't 
believe  it,  just  sing  '  Home,  Sweet  Home '  once  to 
the  tune  of  some  Irish  rollicking  song,  and  mark  the 
consequences." 

"Horrible  ! "  exclaimed  Stacy,  to  whom  there  was 
something  of  sacrilege  in  the  idea. 

"I  don't  like  to  shock  you,"  continued  Robinson. 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  225 

"  I  know  I'm  hitting  hard  against  some  prejudices  ; 
but  in  doing  so  I  am  constituting  myself  a  defender 
of  the  great  legion  of  worthy  men  who  are  forgotten 
while  others  wear  their  laurels,  and  one  of  these 
is  the  composer  of  the  music  of  '  Home,  Sweet, 
Home.'  " 

"  Will  not  some  one  assist  me  ?  "  pleaded  Stacy. 
t '  Will  not  some  one  translate  this  song  into  Portu- 
guese, and  then  we'll  see  how  quickly  the  people 
will  adopt  it." 

"  It  can't  be  done,"  replied  the  Naturalist.  "  The 
very  first  word  of  it  is  lacking.  There  is  no  such 
word  as  4  home '  in  all  the  Portuguese  language, 
with  that  peculiar  shade  of  meaning  which  makes 
the  expression  so  dear  to  us.  It  is  perhaps  because 
there  are  so  few  homes,  as  we  understand  the  word, 
in  any  of  the  tropical  countries." 

"  What  I 'don't  understand,"  said  Chester,  "is 
how  they  say  they  won't  go  home  till  morning." 

"Oh,  they  have  'residence'  and  'domicile'  and 
'  dwelling, '  which  are  sufficient  for  ordinary  conver- 
sation, and  also  the  antique  and  classical  4lar'  and 
the  old  Roman  '  patria, '  which  are  very  handy  for 
their  poetry  and  spread-eagle  speeches." 

"  I  thought  the  Brazilians  were  a  very  domestic 
people,"  said  Stacy. 

"  They  are.  Their  homeless  condition  is  not  their 
fault,  but  is  due  to  '  the  influence  of  their  climate. ' 
There  can  be  no  real  cozy  comfortable  home  in  a 
land  of  perpetual  summer.  It  is  the  winter  and  the 
outside  discomfort  that  knit  a  family  together  around 
the  fireplace  and  lend  a  meaning  almost  sacred  to 
15 


226  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

the  word.  Just  look  at  the  course  of  life  here, 
from  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  year.  There  is  no 
fireside  except  in  the  kitchen.  If  a  lamp  is  lighted 
it  immediately  becomes  a  cynosure  for  a  host  of 
strange  bugs.  When  the  family  are  gathered  to- 
gether they  become  stifled  and  irritable  and  call  for 
elbow-room.  So  they  lean  idly  over  the  cushioned 
window  sill  and  gasp  for  fresh  air,  or  sit  in  the 
garden  and  look  at  the  stars,  or  wander  aimlessly  in 
the  park  till  bed-time.  Ah,  it  is  the  north-land  that 
is  the  land  of  happy  homes  —  the  land  of  walnuts 
and  wassail,  and  the  harder  the  storm  without,  the 
brighter  the  life  within." 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Robinson.  "I  think  you 
have  been  away  from  the  States  some  time  now." 

"  Several  years,"  replied  the  Naturalist. 

"  That  accounts  for  your  hallucination.  The 
longer  a  fellow  has  been  away  from  the  paternal 
roof-tree  the  more  he  loves  the  place.  Home  is  not 
like  strawberries  and  cream,  to  be  enjoyed  on  the 
spot.  For  my  part,  I  think  that  a  good  hotel  or  a 
bachelor's  club  is  a  better  place  to  live  at  than  the 
best-regulated  of  homes.  There  you  have  no  small 
children  climbing  over  you  at  dinner  time;  no  gen- 
tle sisters  tidying  up  your  toucador  and  putting 
everything  in  its  wrong  place,  and  then  going  through 
the  pockets  of  your  other  pantaloons  in  search  of 
love-letters  and  schutzenfest  tickets  ;  and,  best  of  all, 
your  room  is  your  castle,  and  no  one  knows  what 
time  you  get  home  at  night.  They  say  that  the 
author  of  the  song  in  question  never  had  a  home. 
That  isv  he  did  not  know  what  he  was  talking  about, 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  227 

but  drew  upon  his  imagination.  I  believe  it.  Poets 
do  the  same  thing  when  they  write  about  love.  Yet 
who  ever  knew  a  poet  to  sing  of  love  after  he  was 
once  well  married  and  knew  what  it  all  amounted 
to?" 

The  advance  of  this  heretical  sentiment  broke  up 
the  conversation.  Stacy  said  "Good-night,"  and 
retired  from  the  room.  She  went  to  Pauline's  little 
cot  and  leaned  over  the  sleeping  girl,  and  with  a 
soft  hand  parted  the  light  hair  floating  over  her  fore- 
head. Then  in  the  window  seat  she  rested,  looking 
out  on  the  clear  stars  above  and  on  the  dark  green 
tops  of  the  trees  below.  The  music  of  the  players 
in  the  adjacent  square  floated  to  her  in  indolent 
waves  across  the  fresh  and  fragrant  air.  One  hour, 
two  long  hours,  she  sat  there.  Such  hours  as  these 
are  equal  to  the  days  of  ordinary  life,  and  by  the 
thoughts  of  these  hours  let  us  judge  our  little 
friend,  Stacy  Smith.  Hitherto  we  have  seen  her 
as,  alas !  we  are  doomed  to  see  most  women,  at  their 
worst,  in  society  ;  now  let  us  know  her  in  her  own 
true  self.  The  world  will  have  it  that  she,  and  all  of 
us,  shall  be  pert  and  worldly,  trifling  and  foolish, 
full  often  when  we  would  rather  be  true,  simple,  and 
thoughtful.  It  is  the  way  of  the  hollow,  conven- 
tional world. 

Sitting  there,  Stacy  thought  out  a  poem,  and  put- 
ting heart  and  brain  together,  she  joined  it  with 
rhymes.  Like  a  worker  who  invents  some  new 
design  of  fabric  upon  the  loom,  she  was  pleased,  and 
smiled  to  herself  as  line  after  line  grew,  into  shape. 
Then  she  wrote  it  down,  not  for  the  world  to  know, 


228  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

but  that  she  might  read  it  again  in  years  long  after- 
ward. 

It  went  into  a  little  book  with  gold  edges  and 
creamy  pages  which  only  herself  had  seen.  This 
was  not  a  diary  in  which  to  record  the  time  of  rising, 
the  state  of  the  weather,  and  other  commonplaces, 
but  was  a  collection  of  those  great  experiences  in 
her  life  which  her  heart  could  not  keep  to  itself, 
while  she  felt  that  the  person  worthy  to  hear  them 
had  not  yet  come. 

These  are  the  words  that  Stacy  Smith,  like  the 
homesick  Peronella  of  the  fairy  tale,  wrote  in  her 
little  book  with  its  edges  of  gold  : 

IT'S  O,    FOR   THE    APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 

The  orange-flower  is  creamy, 

The  coffee  is  waxen  and  white, 
The  passion-flower  is  fervid, 

And,  like  a  star  in  the  night, 
The  orchid-flower  illumines 

The  dense  dark  wood  with  its  flame; 
But  it's  O,  for  the  apple-blossoms 

Of  the  land  from  whence  I  came. 

The  tropical  inflorescence 

Is  passionate,  gaudy  and  bold ; 
It  swoons  in  its  heavy  velvet, 

It  shines  in  its  dust  of  gold ; 
Its  lips  are  warm  with  the  sunshine, 

Its  heart  is  glowing  with  heat, 
But  better  for  me  are  the  flowers 

Dewy  and  simple  and  sweet. 

And  now  I  believe  the  story 
Of  the  peasant  girl  turned  queen; 

How  she  said,  "  I  am  very  weary 
Of  the  royal  purple  and  green. 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME.  229 

I  am  tired  of  the  crown  and  the  sceptre ; 

I  long  to  lay  them  all  down, 
And  wear  again  with  my  people 

The  kerchief  and  calico  gown." 

I'm  tired  of  the  summer  forever ; 

I'm  tired  of  monotonous  green ; 
I  long  for  the  change  of  the  seasons, 

With  winter,  cold  winter,  between; 
So  pleasant  it  is  in  the  winter 

To  sit  by  the  window  and  think 
Some  day  all  the  trees  in  the  orchard 

Will  bloom  in  carnation  and  pink. 

The  apple-trees  in  the  orchard, 

The  apple-trees  by  the  door, 
Each  tree  is  a  blossom  of  blossoms 

And  promise  of  fruit  in  store. 
The  earth  is  tufted  with  beauty, 

The  air  is  fragrant  with  spring, 
And  there  in  the  early  morning 

The  robins  whistle  and  sing. 

I  envy  the  farmer's  daughter 

Who,  after  the  day  of  rest, 
Walks  down  through  the  apple  orchard 

With  the  one  she  loves  the  best ; 
And  better  than  all  exotics 

Which  queens  in  their  splendor  wear, 
Is  the  spray  of  apple-blossoms 

With  which  he  trims  her  hair. 

The  flower  of  Lent  is  purple, 

And  the  flowers  of  Ipe 
Are  golden  and  bright  yellow 

Like  the  sun  at  close  of  day; 
And  like  a  torch  in  the  jungle 

Is  the  flame  of  the  epiphyte, 
But  it's  0,  for  the  apple-blossoms 

I  would  give  them  all  to-night. 


XX. 

BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS. 

German  simplicity  still  regards  rudeness  as  a  mark  of  courage 
and  honesty,  but  a  peep  into  our  prisons  would  suffice  to  show 
that  there  are  rude  rascals  as  well  as  rude  cowards.  —  HEINRICH 
HEINE. 


"  rr^HE  great  social  question  of  the  day,"  said  the 
-L  Naturalist,  on  one  occasion,  "is  whether,  for 
a  transient  acquaintance,  it  is  better  to  meet  an  Eng- 
lishman, who  will  be  bluff  and  bearish  toward  you 
and  make  you  feel  like  an  intruder,  while  his  heart 
is  overflowing  with  good-will  toward  you,  or  one  of 
the  more  courtly  Southerners,  like  the  Brazilian  for 
instance,  who  natters  you  with  politeness  until  you 
are  perfectly  at  ease,  while  all  the  time  he  is  think- 
ing what  a  bother  you  are." 

"  I'll  take  the  latter,"  replied  Robinson.  "  Give 
me  at  least  the  show  of  hospitality  and  I'll  not  go  to 
the  bother  of  sounding  its  depth.  It  was  long  ago 
decided  that  it  is  better  for  society  to  be  pleasantly 
hypocritical  than  to  be  honest  and  rude.  What  is 
most  politeness  but  sham,  all  the  world  over?  and 
when  your  friends  say  'Good-bye  '  to  you,  how  many 
of  them  mean  it  in  the  full  breadth  of  its  original 
4  God  be  with  you  '  ?  and  when  they  say  c  Farewell,  ' 
how  many  of  them  go  into  the  details  of  wishing  you 
fresh  eggs  and  a  clean  napkin  for  breakfast  ?  " 


BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS.  231 

uBut,"  persisted  Stacy,  "the  old  residents  tell  us 
that  the  Brazilian  politeness  is  superficial  and  does 
not  mean  anything." 

"  Go  to,  thou  pretty  cynic.  Such  words  do  not 
become  such  lips.  Is  a  greeting  likely  to  be  more 
honest  because  it  is  less  cordial?  And  are  our 
4  Farewell '  and  '  Grood-bye '  the  more  forcible  be- 
cause they  are  abbreviated  and  meaningless  ?  Should 
we  distrust  a  hospitality  simply  because  it  has  the 
semblance  of  hospitality  ?  I  have  yet  to  find  in  the 
English  language  a  more  charming  phrase  than  the 
Portuguese  4 Passe  muito  bem  !  '  and  when  our  old 
lady  friend,  Donna  Virginia,  of  Botafogo,  pressed 
my  hand  and  talked  that  way  to  me  in  her  motherly 
way,  it  sounded  like  a  blessing.  It  was  a  whole 
benediction  in  itself." 

"  Talking  about  politeness,"  said  the  Naturalist, 
"  there  has  been  a  wondrous  change  in  Bemvindo  in 
that  respect  since  his  associations  with  me  began. 
He  is  becoming  Americanized." 

"  How  so? "  inquired  Robinson.  "  He  appears  to 
me  to  be  the  model  of  deportment.  Did  he  use  to 
be  any  politer  than  he  is  now  ?  " 

"Yes  —  to  the  churches.  He  would  never  go 
under  the  shadow  of  a  church,  no  matter  how  vile 
and  dirty  its  surroundings,  without  reverently  lifting 
his  hat.  But  my  strong  indifference  to  those  taw- 
dry edifices  discomfits  him  and  makes  him  ashamed, 
and  now  he  does  nothing  more  than  to  watch  when 
his  neighbors  uncover,  and  then  he  elevates  his  hat 
an  inch  and  nonchalantly  scratches  his  head,  just  as 
if  he  did  not  know  there  was  a  church  within  a  mile. 


232  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

If  I  detect  him  in  this  subterfuge  he  looks  foolish 
and  falls  to  staring  in  the  crown,  as  if  to  decipher 
the  trade-mark  or  learn  the  name  of  his  hatter.  It's 
a  way  the  boy  has  of  compromising  with  his  con- 
science. It's  well  to  be  polite  to  the  priests,  he 
thinks,  while  at  the  same  time  he  has  full  confidence 
in  me  and  thinks  that  what  I  do  must  be  just  about 
right.  Some  one  has  said  that  the  world's  great 
men  are  not  great  to  their  valets.  With  me  this  rule 
is  reversed  ;  I  am  a  hero  to  my  valet,  but  unknown  to 
the  world  at  large.  Indeed,  I  natter  myself  that  he 
is  so  much  attached  to  me  that  he  would  not  willingly 
leave  me  under  any  circumstances,  in  this  life  or  the 
next,  and  for  that  reason  he  accommodates  himself 
to  my  customs." 

"  I  can  see  the  aesthetic  side,"  said  Robinson,  "  of 
uncovering  in  the  presence  of  the  pretty  churches 
that  we  have  at  home,  where  cleanliness  and  godli- 
ness are  joined  together ;  but  here,  where  one  of 
those  attributes  can't  be  found  within  a  block  of  the 
other,  I  am  tempted  to  go  to  the  other  extreme,  and 
hide  my  nose  as  well." 

"Please,  Mr.  Kingston,"  begged  Stacy,  "do  not 
reform  Bemvindo  too  much.  That  is  quite  possible, 
you  know." 

"I  will  not.  I  still  continue  to  beam  upon  him 
with  encouragement  when  he  touches  his  hat  to  the 
Emperor's  carriage  or  lifts  it  to  a  passing  funeral." 

"  O,  that  is  the  prettiest  custom  !  "  Stacy  exclaimed. 
"Chester,  I  do  wish  you  would  cultivate  that  habit. 
It  seems  to  make  death  so  much  less  gloomy  and 
severe  when  the  people  on  the  sidewalk  pay  this  last 


BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS.  233 

courtesy  to  the  passing  stranger  whom  they  have 
never  seen  before  and  whom  they  will  never  see  again. 
I  cannot  help  believe  that  it  is  in  some  way  $,  gratifi- 
cation to  the  dead.  At  any  rate,  it  must  be  grati- 
fying to  the  mourners." 

"  The  mourners  ?  "  said  Robinson,  in  affected  sur- 
prise. "Ah,  you  refer  to  the  gentlemen  who  ride 
in  the  carriages  behind,  with  their  hats  tilted  on  their 
heads,  cigarettes  in  their  mouths,  and  their  feet  rest- 
ing on  the  front  seat.  Yes,  it  must  be  highly  grati- 
fying to  them;  if  I  mistake  not,  the  fly  was  gratified 
by  the  dust  which  itself  and  the  carriage-wheel 
raised.  And  now  that  I  come  to  think  seriously 
about  it,  it  must  be  pleasant  for  a  fellow  on  the  eve 
of  death  to  realize  that  there  will  be  some  one  who 
will  do  him  honor  on  his  way  to  San  Francisco 
Xavier  ;  and  if  his  mother  and  sisters  are  prohibited 
by  social  custom  from  accompanying  him  thither, 
and  if  the  young  men  of  his  club  must  smoke 
cigars  and  talk  opera  and  bull-fight  on  the  way,  then 
welcome  be  the  thoughtful  tribute  of  the  stranger. 
It's  a  queer  country,  this." 

"  I  agree  with  my  sister  Anastatia,"  said  Chester, 
contributing  to  the  conversation,  "  that  funerals  are 
not  so  gloomy  and  severe  here  as  they  are  at  home. 
I  saw  a  coffin  in  a  hack  for  a  hearse  yesterday,  and 
it  was  drawn  by  four  white  horses,  and  the  hack  was 
trimmed  with  red  and  yellow,  and  the  coffin  was  as 
stylish  as  a  ball-dress.  There  wasn't  a  bit  of  black 
about  the  outfit  except  the  driver's  eye.  There  was 
nothing  slow  about  that  funeral,  I  tell  you  what." 

"There  is  another  circumstance  that  helps  disarm 


234  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

the  King  of  Terrors,"  said  Robinson.  "  It  must  be 
an  eminently  consolatory  thought,  to  a  person  who 
has  hitherto  been  condemned  to  a  proletarian  til- 
bury-and-street-car  existence,  to  reflect  that  the  day 
is  bound  to  come  when  he  will  keep  his  carriage  with 
the  best  of  them." 

"Speaking  of  street-cars,"  said  Stacy,  "I  saw  a 
lady  at  the  station  on  the  Ouvidor  try  to  find  a  seat 
in  one,  and  not  one  of  the  thirty  or  forty  gentlemen 
there  would  give  her  his  place.  Do  you  call  that 
politeness  ? " 

"Not  conspicuously  polite,  perhaps,"  answered 
Hobinson,  ubut  it  showed  very  good  sense  on  their 
part.  Why  should  they,  indeed  ?  The  world  is  not 
in  the  habit  of  giving  up  its  engaged  chairs  at  the 
theatre,  or  its  engaged  berths  in  a  sleeping-coach, 
to  any  strange  female  that  may  happen  along.  Then 
why  should  they  not  be  equally  rude  in  a  street-car? 
Away  with  this  special  etiquette  for  horse-cars,  I  say. 
What  business  had  she  to  try  to  crowd  in  when  it 
was  full  and  she  knew  it?  There  are  seats  inside  of 
the  waiting-room  provided  for  just  such  belated  per- 
sons as  this  of  yours.  And  yet  the  average  woman 
will  wedge  her  way  into  an  omnibus  that  has  twelve 
passengers  on  each  side  and  as  many  more  sus- 
pended to  the  straps  down  the  middle,  and  will  trust 
to  her  superior  powers  of  browbeating  to  gain  her  a 
comfortable  seat." 

"But  woman  is  so  weak  and  helpless." 

' '  Not  always.  Many  a  time  I  have  been  contempt- 
uously frowned  upon  by  a  woman  who  could  throw 
three  of  me  out  of  the  window,  just  because  I  would 


BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS.  235 

not  sacrifice  m y  comfort  to  hers.  And  this  street-car 
heroine  of  yours  —  didn't  you  notice  that  she  had  her 
arms  full  of  little  packages  ?  She  had  been  bully- 
ing and  wearying  dry-goods  clerks  and  milliners  all 
day.  And  didn't,  you  notice  the  haggard  and  ex- 
hausted look  of  the  men  in  the  car  ?  They  were  the 
clerks  whom  she  had  been  worrying." 

"  You  are  not  chivalric,  Mr.  E-obinson.  I  am  not 
at  all  proud  of  you." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am,  Stacy  —  another  Sidney.  I  will 
give  up  my  ease  any  time  for  the  refined,  the  aged, 
the  weak,  or  the  weary,  even  if  it  is  a  milliner's 
girl.  But  not  to  a  woman  simply  because  she  is  a 
woman." 

4 'You  must  remember  also,"  said  the  Naturalist, 
uthat  the  Brazilians  are  not  yet  accustomed  to  see- 
ing their  real  ladies  upon  the  public  street  and  in  the 
market  place,  and  it  is  hard  for  them  to  realize  that 
their  women  are  becoming  emancipated  from  their 
prison  houses,  and  are  becoming  enfranchised  with 
the  privileges  of  gossip  and  shopping,  like  those  of 
the  more  advanced  northern  civilization.  That  is  one 
reason  for  the  lack  of  politeness  in  the  public  con- 
veyance." 

"  If  you  are  against  me,  I  suppose  I  must  yield," 
said  Stacy,  disconsolately.  "  But  do  you  admire 
the  social  customs  here  ?  " 

"  Some  of  them,  very  much.  The  devotion  of 
children  to  parents  is  certainly  most  admirable. 
There  is  my  friend  of  the  Amazonian  travels,  for  in- 
stance. Although  he  has  incurred  the  sacerdotal 
displeasure  by  declining  to  kiss  the  flabby  hand 


236  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

which  the  priest  extended  to  him,  giving  it  a  jovial 
shake  instead,  yet  he  never  leaves  his  parents  with- 
out paying  them  this  tribute  of  respect.  In  the  life 
upon  the  street,  also,  we  notice  much  that  is  cordial 
and  hearty.  You  •  see  a  waterman,  with  his  tub  of 
water  balanced  upon  his  head,  pass  the  door  of  a 
private  house,  in  which  a  little  darky  domestic  is 
sitting.  The  waterman  says  a  few  words  of  saluta- 
tion, and  the  moleque  touches  his  cap  in  reply,  as 
respectfully  as  if  answering  a  king.  And  those  same 
watermen,  when  they  pass  under  a  window  from 
which  you  are  leaning,  mutter  some  kind  of  a  pax 
vobiscum  upon  you,  and  go  their  way  without  look- 
ing back  for  a  response  or  small  change.  It  is  not 
obsequiousness,  but  the  respect  of  one  human  being 
to  another,  and  as  long  as  it  is  not  obtrusive  it  is 
very  pleasant  indeed.  It  is  something  like  the  old 
plantation  life  in  the  South,  perhaps." 

"But  we  are  Yankees.  We  are  independent," 
boasted  Chester.  "We  don't  waste  our  time  in 
such  nonsense." 

"I  will  tell  you  a  story,  Chester.  It  was  some 
years  ago,  on  the  second  of  December,  which  is  the 
Emperor's  birthday,  that  three  or  four  American 
sea  captains,  young  fellows,  were  making  the  rounds 
of  the  city,  and  found  themselves  in  the  Palace 
Square  as  the  Emperor  went  by  to  the  chapel. 
These  men  were  full  of  whiskey  and  mistaken 
patriotism.  At  home  they  were  the  poorest  citizens, 
abroad  they  were  the  loudest  boasters.  They  also 
said,  ;  We  are  Americans.  We  are  independent. 
Each  of  us  is  a  monarch  in  himself.  We  will  be 


BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS.  237 

blessed  —  or  something  worse  —  if  we  take  off  our 
hats  to  this  man,  as  these  minions  around  us  are 
doing.'  And  they  kept  their  word.  They  made 
themselves  so  conspicuous  by  their  impoliteness 
that  the  Emperor  himself  noticed  them,  and  as  he 
passed  he  gave  them  a  lesson  which  they  never 
forgot.  In  his  most  courteous  manner  he  lifted  his 
own  hat,  and  with  that  kingly  grace  of  his,  he  said, 
4  Good  morning,  gentlemen.'  This  action  took  all 
of  the  swagger  out  of  our  countrymen,  leaving  them 
almost  too  weak  to  stand  alone. 

"  Now,"  concluded  the  Naturalist,  "  granting  that 
each  of  us  is  a  monarch  —  a  mischievous  idea  which 
is  instilled  into  the  American  child  at  an  early  age  — 
is  that  any  reason  why  we  should  not  be  polite  to  a 
fellow  monarch  when  we  meet  him?  " 

;'And  I  also,"  said  Robinson,  "have  a  story  to 
tell  you,  Chester.  It  is  about  President  Grant, 
whom  I  watched  one  cold  and  frosty  morning  as  he 
was  stubbing  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  with 
cigar  and  cane,  taking  his  tonic  exercise.  A  young 
woman  poorly  clad,  probably  a  shop  girl,  went  by, 
and  as  her  eyes  met  his  the  light  of  admiration  and 
recognition  came  into  her  face.  He  observed  it, 
and,  moved  by  the  instincts  of  the  true  gentleman, 
his  hand  went  to  his  hat  and  lifted  it  in  a  courteous 
bow.  Never  will  I  forget  the  expression  of  amazed 
delight  with  which  the  girl  received  this  mark  of 
deference.  Here  was  a  renowned  conqueror  of 
armies  and  ruler  of  states  saluting  her,  poor  little 
her,  whom  a  lieutenant  of  marines  or  a  government 
clerk  would  despise.  I'll  warrant  that  this  was  the 


238  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

rosiest  of  all  the  red-letter  days  of  her  existence, 
and  that  she  will  never  weary  of  telling  this  story 
to  her  children  and  to  her  grandchildren  after  them. 
So  you  see,  Chester,  that  pomp  is  no  indication  of 
power,  and  that  true  greatness  is  more  often  gra- 
cious than  haughty.  Was  not  even  Brutus  gentle 
to  the  sleepy  boy  Lucius  ?  " 

Chester  affected  contrition. 

u After  this,"  said  he,  "I  am  going  to  be  very 
polite.  I  will  embrace  every  person  I  meet,  and 
hug  them  right  and  left-handed." 

"Don't  you  do  it,  Chester,"  warned  Stacy,  with 
severity.  u  I  never  saw  anything  so  ridiculous  as 
two  grown  men  embracing  each  other  like  a  couple 
of  bears." 

"Or  a  couple  of  women,"  added  Robinson.  "I 
agree  with  you  there,  Stacy.  Against  this  form  of 
gush,  the  cold-blooded  Saxon  may  well  rebel.  The 
masculine  mind  of  North  America  is  early  taught 
that  there  is  but  one  class  of  beings  intended  to  be 
hugged,  and  that  is  —  well,  it  is  not  the  bearded 
men.  I  have  reflected  deeply  on  this  subject,  and 
the  only  practical  benefit  that  I  can  see  in  this  close 
communion  is  to  brush  your  nose  across  your 
friend's  moustache,  ascertain  what  brand  of  cigars 
he  smokes,  and  so  determine  as  to  the  advisability 
of  continuing  his  acquaintance. " 

UI  think  it's  a  first-rate  idea,"  persisted  Chester. 
"I've  been  taking  lessons  of  old  Joe  Walker  down 
at  the  docks.  Its  fun  to  see  him  embrace  a  Portu- 
guese when  there  are  other  Americans  around  and 
he  feels  a  little  ashamed  of  himself.  First  he  throws 


BRAZILIAN  POLITENESS.  239 

his  left  arm  around  the  fellow's  neck,  gets  an  under 
hold  on  the  other  side,  gouges  his  chin  into  the 
chap's  right  shoulder,  squeezes  like  a  cider-press, 
winks  with  his  left  eye  and  spits  out  of  the  right 
corner  of  his  mouth  ;  this  is  what  he  calls  keeping 
up  an  equilibrium.  Then  they  reverse  the  opera- 
tion, and  hug  over  the  other  shoulder.'" 

u  Chester,  I  think  there  are  other  accomplish- 
ments more  necessary  to  your  welfare  than  this," 
advised  Stacy. 

"No,  indeed.  I  am  getting  this  to  astonish  my 
young  lady  friends  with  when  I  go  home." 

At  this  moment  Stacy  rose  to  cross  the  room  for 
some  purpose,  and  incautiously  passed  close  to 
Chester. 

UI  must  keep  up  my  practice,"  he  said,  and  be- 
fore the  girl  could  resist  he  had  enveloped  her  in  his 
arms  and  was  winking  at  the  company  from  the 
vicinity  of  her  right  ear.  Then,  quick  as  a  flash, 
he  changed  positions,  and  his  clown's  face  appeared 
on  the  other  side,  while  his  chin  was  working  pain- 
fully into  her  shoulder. 

' c  Go  away,  you  awful  boy  !  "  she  cried,  throwing 
him  from  her,  and  seeking  her  room  in  order  to 
smooth  her  ruffled  temper  and  dress. 


XXI. 
HAIL  TO  THE  CHIEF. 

Call  all  your  tribes  together,  praise  the  gods, 

And  make  triumphant  fires;  strew  flowers  before  them. 

— SHAKESPEARE. 

"  "TTTHEN  the  Emperor  comes." 

VV  Such  had  been  the  universal  response  to 
all  pleas  for  political  reform,  all  projects  in  public 
enterprise,  and  all  of  the  hopes  of  the  business  men. 
When  the  Emperor  should  come,  the  price  of  codfish 
would  fall,  the  parched  mountain  sides  would  yield 
more  water  for  the  thirsty  city,  the  fever  would  stop 
its  ominous  advance,  and  the  clear  light  of  prosper- 
ity would  again  shine  upon  a  nation  over  which  the 
clouds  of  corruption  and  disaster  were  settling  fast. 

" Let's  go  and  see  the  party  land,"  Chester  sug- 
gested. "I  can't  offer  you  a  private  box  in  one  of 
the  windows  of  that  locality,  for  they're  selling  at 
fifty  dollars  apiece  ;  but  I  know  where  there's  a  first- 
rate  street  corner  to  stand  on,  provided  some  one 
hasn't  got  it." 

Kobinson  and  Stacy  felt  that  they  could  not,  in 
justice  to  themselves,  refuse  so  liberal  an  offer,  and 
they  complied. 

The  Street  of  the  First  of  March,  which  was  the 
route  from  the  landing  place  to  the  Imperial  Chapel, 
was  strewn  with  the  green  leaves  of  the  mango  and 
cinnamon  trees. 

940 


HAIL  TO   THE  CHIEF.  241 

"I  did  not  think  these  horrible  streets  could  be 
made  so  pleasant,"  Stacy  remarked.  "This  is  as 
fresh  and  fragrant  as  a  lover's  lane." 

"Or  a  bridal  path  to  church,"  added  Robinson. 
' 4  Here  they  come.  Viva  o  Imperador !  Shall  I 
yell  and  toss  high  my  ready  hat  in  air,  Stacy  ? " 

"Please,  don't.  This  is  not  our  affair,  remem- 
ber. You  are  not  after  any  office,  and  I  am  not 
anxious  for  any  court  favor,  so  we'll  just  stand  aloof, 
like  the  spectators  and  foreigners  that  we  are." 

Thus  the  Imperial  pair  came  home  again.  On 
foot  and  bareheaded,  with  the  Empress  on  his  arm, 
Dom  Pedro  Segundo  advanced  upon  his  triumphal 
entry  into  power  again  after  a  long  experience  in 
that  easiest  of  all  conditions,  private  citizenship. 
His  brow  assumed  again  the  graciousness  and  dig- 
nity of  one  who  has  been  for  forty-five  years  an  ac- 
ceptable sovereign.  And  though  there  were  tall 
men  in  his  retinue,  he  was  half  a  head  above  the 
tallest ;  and  though  there  were  fine-looking  men 
among  them,  none  could  compare  with  him.  In  a 
word,  he  was  the  man  whom  a  stranger,  judging  by 
the  laws  of  natural  selection  alone,  would  unhesitat- 
ingly designate  as  most  worthy  to. rule.  Where  in 
all  of  the  monarchical  world  is  there  another  body 
of  king  and  council  of  whom  the  same  may  be  said  ? 

The  procession  having  passed,  the  crowd  scattered 
and  went  their  several  ways.  The  vivas,  like  the 
rockets,  became  more  desultory.  The  Italian  boot- 
black, who  had  been  adding  his  musical  accents  to 
the  prevailing  jargon  of  greeting,  now  subsided  into 
a  quiet  c '  Viva  o  Imperador  —  shiny  your  boots  — 
16 


242  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

cemreis!"  pointing  to  Chester's  soiled  shoes  as  he 
passed  our  party. 

"I  think  the  show  is  over  for  this  morning,"  said 
Robinson.  "Let's  walk  down  the  Ouvidor  and  see 
the  people  from  the  country,  and  view  the  prepara- 
tions of  the  committee  of  arrangements,  and  count 
the  arches  that  they  have  made." 

In  making  this  tour,  they  stopped  once  to  con- 
sider the  decoration  of  a  piece  of  architectural  pa- 
geantry which  was  built  across  the  street.  It  was 
yet  incomplete,  and  near  at  hand  two  men,  un- 
disturbed by  all  the  turmoil  around  them,  were  at 
work,  sawing  out  some  scantlings  for  its  frame. 
They  were  situated  like  sawyers  in  a  pit,  one  stand- 
ing upon  a  heavy  plank  and  the  other  underneath, 
alternately  pulling  and  pushing  the  serrate  blade 
that  was  dividing  it  in  twain.  The  mechanical,  in- 
dolent industry  of  these  laborers  was  remarkable ; 
they  worked,  but  it  was  apparently  without  exertion  ; 
they  followed  the  line,  but  seemingly  took  no  thought 
of  it. 

"They  are  asleep,"  said  Stacy. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  don't  you  see  their  eyes  are  open  ? " 

"But  their  sense  is  shut,  I  tell  you.  And  look  ! 
that  man's  toe  is  right  on  the  line." 

"Trust  him  for  taking  it  up  before  the  saw  reaches 
it." 

They  watched  the  progress  of  the  saw  with  re- 
doubled interest,  and  Stacy's  face  glowed  with  the 
excitement  of  the  moment.  Robinson  could  feel  her 
hand  tremble  on  his  arm  as  those  glittering  teeth 
bit  and  withdrew,  bit  and  withdrew,  at  every  stroke 


HAIL  TO  THE  CHIEF.  243 

a  half  an  inch  nearer  to  the  luckless  great  toe,  which 
was  the  object  of  so  much  concern. 

" Please,  speak  to  him,"  begged  Stacy;  but  Rob- 
inson was  obdurate. 

At  the  next  sweep  the  saw  just  grazed  the  nail  of 
the  toe.  The  man  stirred  uneasily,  and  was  half 
aroused  to  consciousness,  like  one  who  has  been 
troubled  in  his  sleep.  Again,  and  those  hungry 
teeth  got  a  good  bite  into  their  prey,  cruelly  tearing 
both  nail  and  flesh.  The  victim  was  thoroughly 
awake  now.  He  dropped  the  handle  of  his  imple- 
ment and  picked  up  his  foot  instead,  caressing  it 
with  much  fervor. 

"  Oh,  why  didn't  you  tell  him  ?" 

Robinson  felt  guilty. 

4 '  How  should  I  know  that  he  was  going  to  vivisect 
himself  in  that  raw  style  ?  Well,  I  declare  !  I've 
heard  of  the  man  who  was  too  lazy  to  go  in  when  it 
rained.  I'll  believe  it  now.  I  am  ready  to  believe 
anything.  What  a  peculiar  thing  this  tropical 
temperament  is  !  What  a  study  for  a  psychologist !" 

"It  must  be  the  influence  of  the  climate,"  sug- 
gested Chester. 

U0ome  on,  Stacy.  Let's  leave  this  scene  of  car- 
nage. I  feel  faint.  There  is  a  restaurant  over 
there,  and,  for  a  wonder,  the  customary  gang  of 
politicians  are  not  haranguing  at  its  doors  to-day. 
There  is  generally  a  crowd  of  idle  and  wordy  young 
doctors  there,  obstructing  the  sidewalk  and  imperil- 
ling the  lives  of  peaceful  citizens  with  their  gesticu- 
lations. Shades  of  Talleyrand  !  how  this  nation  does 


244  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

run  to  young  doctors,  and  how  these  doctors  run  to 
politics!" 

" Doctors?"  said  Stacy,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  doctors.  In  other  words,  college  gradu- 
ates, too  numerous  to  be  lawyers  and  professors,  and 
too  proud  to  go  into  business.  So,  if  they  can't  get 
a  Government  clerkship  under  the  ruling  party,  they 
do  the  next  best  thing  and  air  their  talents  on  the 
side  of  the  opposition,  pointing  out  the  breakers  and 
the  demnition  bow-wows  toward  which  the  ship  of 
state  is  bound." 

' '  Bemvindo  asked  me  once  -  if  father  was  a  doc- 
tor," said  Chester,  "and  when  I  told  him  no,  he 
seemed  disappointed  and  I  thought  he  turned  up  his 
nose  a  little." 

"  That  was  simply  a  way  of  asking  if  your  father 
was  a  man  of  any  importance.  You  ought  to  have 
said  yes,  that  he  was  a  sabio  of  the  first  order. " 

"  But  where  are  all  of  these  educated  young  doctors 
to-day  ?"  asked  Stacy,  looking  around  the  gilded  hall 
as  if  she  wouldn't  mind  seeing  some  of  them. 

"  Oh,  this  is  an  off  day  for  politicians.  All  of 
them,  malcontents,  liberals,  and  republicans,  are 
loyal  citizens  to-day.  This,  you  will  perhaps  remem- 
ber, is  the  day  of  Dom  Pedro's  return,  and  all  of 
the  people,  no  matter  how  much  they  may  be  op- 
posed to  imperialism,  respect  and  welcome  their  em- 
peror. " 

"  And  there  are  republicans  here,  are  there?"     * 

"Yes,  indeed,  a  good  many  of  them,  open  and 
avowed.  They  even  support  a  paper.  I'll  get  you 
a  copy  of  the  Republic  some  time." 


HAIL   TO  THE  CHIEF.  245 

"  I  shouldn't  think  the  authorities  would  allow  it." 

"  On  the  contrary,  the  Emperor  fosters  it,  and  thus 
kills  it  with  kindness,  as  it  were.  He  is  acute  enough 
to  know  that  all  heart-felt  principles,  whether  of  the 
church  or  state,  thrive  under  persecution,  and  so  he 
does  not  persecute.  If  any  one  were  to  speak  to 
him  of  a  possible  republic  in  Brazil,  he  would  proba- 
bly receive  the  idea  with  equanimity  and  nominate 
himself  for  first  president.  It  is  probable  that  he 
would  be  elected,  too,  though  perhaps  with  less 
pay  than  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars 
a  year." 

"Does  he  get  that?" 

"  All  of  that,  and  his  wife  gets  a  salary  also." 

"  Happy  wife  !  But  what  does  he  do  with  so  much 
money  ?" 

' '  Gives  it  away,  most  of  it,  to  the  unfortunate  and 
deserving.  With  the  exception  of  a  shabby  palace 
or  two,  for  which  I  would  not  trade  an  ordinary 
house  on  Fifth  avenue,  he  is  a  poor  man  to-day,  and 
probably  will  be  when  he  dies." 

uPoor  fellow!"  sighed  Chester,  who,  in  the 
meantime,  had  been  sampling  various  refections, 
cooling,  refreshing  and  invigorating,  and  recom- 
mending them  to  the  favorable  consideration  of  his 
friends. 

uBut  isn't  it  funny  that  they  ask  us  if  we  want 
our  drinks  iced  !"  said  the  boy.  "Why,  of  course 
we  do.  That  ought  to  be  understood." 

"  Not  here,  Chester.  Ice  has  not  yet  become  the 
necessity  here  that  it  is  in  our  country,  where  it 
grows  by  the  acre.  It  is  a  kind  of  a  luxury  here, 


246  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

and  you  will  find  that  it  is  counted  as  an  extra  in  the 
bill.  It  is  to  this  people  as  wine  is  to  ours,  a  sort  of 
an  unfamiliarity  to  the  common  classes  ;  and  when 
the  Brazilian  who  has  been  north  wishes  to  impress 
his  home  folks,  he  orders  up  a  dish  of  macadamized 
ice,  and  that  stamps  him  a  swell." 

' '  I  know  one  young  Brazilian  to  whom  ice  is  not 
an  unfamiliarity, ".  replied  Chester.  "That's  that 
planter's  boy  from  Minas,  that  goes  gaping  around 
our  hotel,  astonished  half  to  death  all  the  time.  The 
first  day  he  came  here  I  found  him  standing  in  the 
hall  when  I  came  out  from  dinner.  I  was  coddling 
a  piece  of  ice  in  my  hand,  just  to  keep  cool,  and  see- 
ing that  he  was  a  stranger  I  thought  I'd  be  polite  to 
him  and  give  him  some.  So  I  put  it  where  it  would 
do  the  most  good,  and  dropped  it  down  the  back  of 
his  neck.  Oh,  I  thought  I  should  die!  " 

Here,  with  great  bursts  of  laughter  Chester  en- 
joyed the  scene  over  again. 

"That  wasn't  very  nice  of  you,"  reproved  Stacy. 
"  You  ought  to  have  been  ashamed.  What  did  the 
little  fellow  do  ?  Did  he  cry  ?" 

"No,  he  didn't  cry;  he  howled.  He  danced  and 
grabbed  at  the  slippery  thing,  but  he  couldn't  get 
hold  of  it  until  it  came  out  of  his  trousers'  leg  down  by 
his  ankle.  Then  his  mother  came  running  up,  and  I 
had  sudden  business  elsewhere." 

"It's  evident  that  ice  is  a  novelty  on  the  planta- 
tions up  in  Minas, "  remarked  Robinson.  ' 4 1  saw 
this  same  chap's  little  sister  draw  a  piece  into  her 
mouth  from  her  wine  and  water  the  other  night,  and 
she  also  went  into  convulsions  of  tears  and  alarm. 


HAIL  TO  THE  CHIEF.  247 

All  of  this  goes  to  prove  that  our  inordinate  demand 
for  ice  is  an  unnatural  and  acquired  taste,  and  it  is 
certainly  as  unhealthy  as  it  is  unnatural.  Every 
glass  of  ice  water  that  we  take  administers  a  shock 
to  the  nervous  system  ;  and  yet  our  temperance  peo- 
ple at  home  go  on  shocking  themselves  into  dyspep- 
sia and  the  grave  while  protesting  against  the  use  of 
a  glass  of  harmless  and  nutritious  beer." 

"  I  don't  think  I  will  ever  care  for  ice  water  again," 
observed  Stacy.  "  Its  effect  is  almost  painful  to  me 
now,  after  drinking  so  long  from  these  Brazilian 
moringueSj  whose  water  is  always  like  an  October 
morning,  just  the  right  temperature  for  comfort. 
When  I  go  home  I  am  going  to  take  some  odd  speci- 
mens of  moringues  with  me,  and  keep  them  filled 
with  drinking  water  in  artistic  and  convenient  posi- 
tions around  the  house.  In  the  present  rage  for  bi- 
zarre pottery  and  rude  and  mystic  earthenware,  I 
think  these  barbaric  vases  of  porous  clay  will  be  just 
the  thing." 

"But  don't  get  up  in  the  night  and  drink  out  of 
them  blindly,"  warned  Chester.  "  There's  always  a 
barata  inside  taking  a  sip,  and  when  you  tip  up  the  jug 
and  put  its  mouth  to  your  lips,  the  water  wets  the 
bug's  heels  and  he  rushes  madly  out,  lands  on  your 
nose,  and  runs  all  over  you  like  a  cold  shiver  before 
you  know  what's  the  matter  with  you.  Mind  what  I 
say,  now.  There's  always  a  barata  inside.  I've  tried  it 
a  hundred  times  and  he  never  failed  to  be  there." 

"  Oh,  Stacy  !  "  sighed  Kobinson.  "  And  has  the 
ceramic  art  distemper  reached  even  you  on  this  far- 
away shore  ?  Well,  we'll  go  out  some  day  and  see 


24:8  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

what  we  can  find  in  the  way  of  meringues.  They 
have  them  in  all  shapes — birds,  animals,  fruits,  hu- 
man figures,  jars,  urns,  amphoras,  barrels,  flagons, 
and  champagne  glasses.  We'll  go  to  the  crockery- 
shops  first,  and  then  we'll  visit  Professor  Hartt's 
quarters,  at  the  Geological  Survey.  I  think  we  can 
get  some  hints  there.  They  have  a  complete  mu- 
seum of  the  ceramic  art,  picked  up  here  and  there 
throughout  Brazil." 

"And  battle-axes,  and  clubs,  and  corals,  and  dia- 
monds, and  crocodiles,  and  crabs,  and  burial  vases, 
and  preserved  Indians !  "  cried  Chester,  who  had 
been  there.  "  You  ought  to  go." 

"Talking  of  crockery,"  resumed  Robinson,  "this 
is  my  hobby — i\iQ  paliteiro,"  and  he  picked  up  the 
toothpick  holder  from  the  table.  It  was  in  the  form 
of  a  peasant  girl,  holding  above  her  head  an  um- 
brella, which  was  pierced  by  the  splinters  of  wood; 
apparently  it  had  been  raining  toothpicks. 

' '  Now  this  is  something  new  in  paliteiros, "  he 
said.  "A  decidedly  unique  design,  and  one  which 
is  not  numbered  in  my  collection.  I've  a  notion  to 
pocket  it." 

"Are  you  making  a  collection  ?"  asked  Stacy. 

"  Yes,  since  confessions  of  weakness  are  in  order, 
I  am.  I  think  I  have  about  all  the  other  styles — 
the  quiver  of  arrows,  the  bundle  of  rockets,  the  por- 
cupine with  his  quills,  the  star-fish,  the  pin-cushion, 
the  image  of  fright  with  hair  standing  on  end,  and 
all  the  rest." 

"But  the  paliteiro  does  not  form  a  part  of  our 
table  service  at  home." 


HAIL   TO   THE  CHIEF.  249 

"  Then  we'll  introduce  it.  We  have  been  abroad, 
you  know." 

"  Say,  Henry,  I've  thought  of  something.  I've  read 
in  French  history  that  Admiral  Coligny  was  devoted 
to  toothpicks,  and  that  he  was  rarely  seen,  in  his 
study,  in  the  council,  or  in  the  field,  without  one  be- 
tween his  teeth.  It  was  a  personal  peculiarity  of 
his,  like  Jackson's  cane  or  Thurman's  horrible  hand- 
kerchief. Now,  I  wonder  if  he  introduced  the  cus- 
tom of  toothpicks  in  Brazil  at  the  time  that  he  sent 
over  that  pilgrim  band  of  Huguenots  under  Yille- 
gagnon,  in  the  days  of  Luther,  Lefevre,  and  Calvin." 

"  I  don't  know,  indeed  ;  but  if  that's  the  case,  the 
evil  has  outlasted  the  good  :  the  true  faith  endured 
only  four  years,  while  the  toothpicks  have  come 
down  to  us  through  nearly  four  hundred." 

' '  When  are  you  going  to  take  us  over  to  Yillegag- 
non  Island,  Henry?  You  promised  to." 

u  I  don't  see  the  beauty  of  the  trip,"  he  replied. 
"There's  nothing  there  but  a  hot  sand-bar,  with  a 
palm  tree  or  two,  and  a  fort.  What  do  you  expect 
to  find  on  that  sacred  spot,  any  way  ?  Rusty  Bible 
clasps  and  halberds  and  broken  crucifixes?" 

"No,"  she  said  sturdily,  "but  I  do  expect  to 
find  a  sacred  spot,  as  you  say ;  and  if  you  had  any 
reverence  about  you,  you  would  be  glad  enough  to 
make  a  pilgrimage  to  the  place  where  our  religion 
was  first  preached  in  the  New  World." 

"What  is  all  this  about?"  asked  Chester. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  Stacy  answered.  "I  think  you'll 
sympathize  with  me,  Chester,  for  you  have  the 
Huguenot  blood  in  your  veins,  and  take  a  little  pride 


250  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

in  the  history  of  your  religion.  In  1555,  in  the  cen- 
tury in  which  Columbus  died  and  Shakespeare  was 
born,  while  Walter  Raleigh  was  yet  a  baby  in  his 
mother's  arms,  the  first  colony  of  French  Protestants 
crossed  the  ocean  and  landed  on  this  Yillegagnon 
Island  out  here  in  the  bay,  not  over  half  an  hour's 
sail  from  here.  Think  of  that,  Chester  !  That  was 
a  long,  long  lifetime  before  the  Mayflower  came  to 
Massachusetts.  Why,  when  I  realize  that  fact,  Ches- 
ter, and  consider  that  our  mother  was  a  Lefevre  and 
descended  from  a  branch  of  these  same  French 
Huguenots,  those  stuck-up  Puritan  families  over  in 
New  England  always  seem  to  me  just  like  parvenus." 

u That's  what  they  always  seemed  to  me,"  said 
Chester,  complacently. 

"I  may  not  be  much  of  a  judge,"  said  Robinson, 
ironically,  "but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  meek  and 
lowly  spirit  of  the  Reformed  Church  and  its  early 
martyrs  does  not  pervade  the  present  conversation 
to  any  great  extent.  On  the  contrary,  it  does  seem 
to  me  to  be  decidedly  worldly  and  vainglorious." 

"  Oh,  get  out,  Rob  !"  answered  Chester.  "  What 
do  you  know  about  such  things  ?  I  don't  believe 
your  ancestors  had  any  religion.  If  they  did,  they 
didn't  bequeath  much  of  it  to  the  present  generation. 
Maybe  you  didn't  have  any  ancestors.  We  never 
hear  much  of  them,  at  any  rate." 

"I  am  heartily  glad  that  I  cannot  run  my  pedi- 
gree back  as  far  as  the  settling  of  Yillegagnon  Island. 
I  would  hate  awfully  to  connect  with  this  crowd  of 
Protestant  pioneers,  which  Stacy  gets  so  sentimental 


HAIL   TO   THE  CHIEF.  251 

"  And  why  not,  indeed?"  she  asked,  indignantly. 

"Because  they  were  decidedly  a  disreputable 
body,  made  up  of  adventurers,  fugitives  from  jus- 
tice, and  criminals  from  the  jails,  with  a  very  little 
leaven  of  earnest  and  pious  men." 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  it." 

"It's  really  so,  Stacy.  However,  they  were 
every  bit  as  respectable  as  the  first  families  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  of  numerous  other  localities  where  the 
present  generation  boasts  of  its  descent  from  the 
original  settlers.  The  trouble  with  these  founders 
of  new  peoples  is  that  they  are  all  adventurers, 
in  not  the  best  sense  of  the  word,  and  they  are  not 
such  folks  as  you  would  like  to  admit  into  your  set, 
Stacy.  So,  I  can't  help  but  ask,  why  be  so  fond  of 
their  children's  children  ?  William  the  Conqueror's 
knights  were  filibusters  just  as  much  as  Walker's 
comrades  in  Nicaragua ;  the  difference  is  that  one 
succeeded,  while  the  other  did  not." 

"But  these  '  adventurers,'  as  you  call  them,  are 
useful  in  their  sphere,"  argued  Stacy. 

"Exactly.  Their  rash  enterprise  is  good  for  the 
political  world,  just  as  thunderstorms  give  new  life 
to  the  air,  and  freshets  strengthen  the  Nile  Valley. 
As  Emerson  says,  4  Out  of  Sabine  rapes  and  robber 
forays  real  Homes  and  their  heroism  come  in  ful- 
ness of  time.'  Besides,  it  is  in  the  nature  of  things 
that  the  pioneers  of  the  soil  should  come  from  the 
flotsam  of  the  society  from  which  they  emigrate,  for 
the  solid,  prosperous,  and  law-abiding  citizens  live 
and  die  at  home,  leaving  their  business  and  social 
position  to  their  sons  after  them.  It  is  the  victims 


252  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

of  misfortune,  folly,  or  disgrace,  who  seek  new  homes 
in  new  lands ;  and  why  should  you  or  I,  Stacy,  be 
proud  to  own  one  of  these  as  the  stock  from  which 
we  sprung  ?" 

u  But  do  not  honest  and  sensible  folks  move  some- 
times ?"  asked  Stacy,  remembering  certain  May-day 
experiences  of  her  own  family. 

k '  Oh,  yes,  go  down  to  Castle  Garden  almost  any 
day,  and  you  will  see  a  cargo  of  emigrants  come 
ashore.  You  will  hold  your  dress  aside  as  they  pass, 
for  they  are  not  pleasant  to  associate  with.  Yet 
these  people  will  go  to  Minnesota  and  establish  them- 
selves there,  and  in  two  hundred  years  or  less  their 
descendants  will  be  wealthy  and  powerful  and  be 
laying  the  pleasant  unction  of  ;  old  family '  to  their 
souls,  and  people  like  you  will  respect  them  for  it, 
— like  you,  who  despise  the  original  founders  of 
these  families  as  they  pass  through  Castle  Garden. 
Or,  I  see,  in  my  imagination,  a  dusty,  sunburnt 
traveller  crossing  the  plains  with  his  family  and  all  of 
his  worldly  goods  stowed  away  in  the  wagon  which 
is  their  only  home.  He  goes  to  Colorado,  ploughs 
a  farm  or  sinks  a  mining  shaft,  and  fortune  smiles 
upon  his  efforts.  His  son  will  go  to  college,  and  in 
due  time  to  the  Senate.  His  grandson,  silly  and 
dissipated,  knowing  no  higher  ambition  than  to  lead 
the  German  and  lounge  about  the  clubs,  will  accom- 
pany the  Senator  to  Washington  and  be  received 
with  open  arms  for  the  sake  of  his  family.  Now  I 
respect  the  dusty  and  sunburnt  emigrant;  you  re- 
spect his  dissipated  grandson.  That's  where  we  dif- 
fer, Stacy." 


HAIL   TO  THE  CHIEF.  253 

4 '  That  picture  is  overdrawn,  Mr.  Robinson.  Fam- 
ilies don't  become  old  in  two  generations,  even  in 
our  country. " 

"  Don't  they  ?  Go  to  Utah,  among  the  Mormons, 
and  see.  There  they  date  from  1846,  or  thereabouts. 
And  on  the  Pacific  coast  the  bearded  miners  of  1849 
are  already  an  aristocracy  which  is  daily  becoming 
more  honored  and  respectable.  If  those  self-exiled 
Johnny  Rebs  up  here  on  the  Amazon  have  not  social 
distinctions  between  the  old  residents  and  later  ar- 
rivals, they  must  have  left  the  American  spirit  be- 
hind them  when  they  shook  the  American  dust  off 
their  feet." 

uThat  is  nice  talk,  indeed  !  You  ought  to  go  to 
France  and  be  a  communist,  Henry.  There  you 
might  find  some  congenial  spirits  who  do  not  know 
who  their  fathers  and  mothers  are." 

"  You  mistake  me,  Stacy.  I  have  no  particular 
objection  to  knowledge  of  that  sort.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  consider  a  genealogical  record  a  most  excel- 
lent thing  to  have  in  a  family,  as  a  matter  of  curi- 
osity and  legal  convenience.  But  we've  no  right  to 
be  proud  of  it,  even  if  there  are  illustrious  names 
upon  its  pages,  for  according  to  our  republican  insti- 
tutions, of  which  we  boast  so  much,  honor  is  not 
hereditary.  It  is  every  generation  for  itself,  and  ob- 
scurity for  the  unworthy.  "Where  are  our  Presi- 
dent's sons,  from  Washington  down?" 

u  Have  you  never  heard  of  one  named  Adams? 
I'm  not  going  to  let  such  sophisms  cheat  me  out 
of  the  feeling  of  pride  which  I  have  when  I  think  of 
my  Huguenot  ancestors,"  said  Stacy,  with  a  ring  in 


254:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

her  voice.  u  The  brave  men,  who  sacrificed  home 
and  all  in  defence  of  the  truth  as  their  hearts  under- 
stood it !  " 

"  What  right  have  you  to  be  proud  of  them  ?  It 
wasn't  from  any  influence  of  yours,  was  it,  that  they 
were  what  they  were  ?  On  the  contrary,  Stacy,  if  I 
were  you,  and  could  count  among  my  ancestors  some 
devoted  Huguenot  to  whom  prosperity  or  adversity, 
home  or  a  foreign  land,  were  as  nothing  compared 
with  the  principles  of  that  eternal  truth  which  changes 
at  the  order  of  neither  priest  nor  pope,  I  would  be 
filled  with  a  sense  of  overwhelming  shame  to  think 
what  a  plaything,  a  fashion,  and  a  Sunday  garment 
our  religion  of  the  present  day  is.  Not  pride,  but 
remorse,  would  be  my  portion  as  I  would  think  how 
the  race  had  degenerated  in  these  two  hundred  years, 
and  would  hold  myself  responsible  for  my  share  in 
the  decline." 

"  Perhaps,  if  you  took  the  trouble  to  examine 
your  family  history,  you  would  find  that  your  race 
has  degenerated  also.  I  know  it  has  since  your 
father  died." 

Stacy  was  becoming  sarcastic. 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,"  replied  Robinson,  compla- 
cently. "I  do  not  doubt  that  my  lineage  is  full  of 
dukes  and  martyrs,  if  I  only  took  the  trouble  to 
hunt  them  up.  The  aristocratic  name  of  Robinson 
is  sufficient  guarantee  of  that.  But  I  save  myself 
this  trouble  and  the  consequent  remorse  by  main- 
taining an  indifference  on  this  subject,  and  now  I  can 
look  back  over  my  shoulder  to  my  forefathers,  as 
far  as  I  can  see  them,  and  say,  with  a  clear  con- 


HAIL   TO  THE  CHIEF.  255 

science,  '  Cast  no  reproach  on  me !  I  am  as  good 
as  you.  I  have  kept  the  talent  which  you  transmit- 
ted to  me,  and  lo,  it  has  suffered  no  loss,  no  harm, 
no  stain  in  my  possession.  Perhaps,  O  shades  of 
my  fathers,  it  has  even  increased  a  little  in  value, 
but  that's  not  for  me  to  say.'  This  is  a  very  com- 
fortable reflection  to  make,  Stacy,  and  I'm  sorry  you 
and  other  members  of  '  good  families '  can't  indulge 
in  it." 

Stacy  thought  a  moment,  and  then  laughed  at  the 
oddity  of  the  idea  and  the  self-complacency  of  the 
man  who  made  it.  There  is  nothing  like  a  laugh 
for  breaking  up  a  bitter  war  of  words.  It  is  oil  upon 
the  troubled  waters. 


XXII. 
OUE  LADY  OF  THE  KOCK. 

Upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church. — MATTHEW  xvi,  18. 

ONE  Saturday  morning  in  October,  the  boy  Ches- 
ter, assuming  an  air  of  business,  remarked: 

"I  understand  they're  having  a  camp-meeting 
somewhere  out  in  the  country,  and  I  am  thinking  of 
getting  up  a  party  to  go  out  there  to-morrow.  Who 
wants  to  go?" 

"  Who,  indeed?"  said  Stacy,  with  a  frown  of  dis- 
approval. 

"Better  go,  sis.  To-morrow  is  the  big  day,  so 
Bemvindo  said.  I  guess  the  presiding  elder  is  going 
to  be  there,  or  something  of  that  sort.  Besides,  I 
could  mention  some  members  of  the  Smith  family 
who  have  neglected  their  piety  lately." 

"What  is  the  boy  talking  about?"  Stacy  asked. 

The  Naturalist  came  to  her  relief. 

"  It  is  the  Festa  of  Nossa  Senhora  da  Penha — Our 
Lady  of  the  Rock,"  he  explained.  u  To-morrow  will 
be  the  last  of  the  nine  days  of  celebration,  and  it 
will  be  the  day  of  all  religious  days  in  the  year. 
The  affair  is  really  worth  seeing." 

"  Do  you  know  where  the  place  is  ?" 

u]STot  this  particular  church  of  Our  Lithological 
Lady,  but  I  have  seen  several  similar  ones  in  Brazil, 
all  perched  upon  Gibraltars  of  rock.  There  is  one 

256 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK.  257 

in  Victoria,  up  on  the  coast,  which  the  lightning 
strikes  regularly  once  a  year.  It  is  a  wonder  that 
the  Sugar  Loaf  is  not  crowned  with  a  chapel  of  this 
name." 

"It  must  be  very  interesting.  But  how  can  we 
ever  find  the  way  there  ?" 

Kind  offers  of  guidance  were  now  in  order,  but 
they  came  from  an  unexpected  source. 

"I'll  show  you  the  way,"  cried  Chester,  launch- 
ing out  in  a  parody  on  Rio  nomenclature.  uWe 
only  have  to  follow  the  crowd.  It's  down  the  Street 
of  the  Day  Before  Christmas  and  through  the  Lane 
of  St.  Peter  and  the  Washerwoman,  then  up  the 
Street  of  St.  Patrick's  Day  in  the  Morning  and  across 
Purgatory  Square  to  the  Wharf  of  the  Italian  Eel- 
Skinners  of  the  Fourth  Ward  of  the  District  of  John 
Baptist,  Junior,  which  used  to  be  called  the  Wharf 
of  the  Forty  Thieves.  The  boat  starts  from  there." 

The  boy  stopped  for  a  moment  to  take  breath,  and 
then  added,  complacently: 

"I  guess  you  can't  lose  me  in  this  most  loyal  and^ 
most  heroic  city  of  San  Sebastian." 

"I  will  accompany  your  party,  if  I  may,"  said 
the  Naturalist,  courteously. 

Stacy's  brow  cleared  once  more. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you,  and  I  am  sure  we  appre- 
ciate your  kindness  more  than  we  can  tell,"  she 
said.  "When  we  are  left  to  ourselves,  we  are  very 
stupid,  indeed." 

"Hear  that,  Kob?  That's  a  fling  at  us,"  whis- 
pered Chester. 

"Perhaps  Mrs.  Laurie  would  like  to  go,"  sug- 
17 


258  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

gested  Robinson.  "She  would  add  life  to  the 
party. " 

Mrs.  Laurie  was  a  young  widow,  residing  at  the 
hotel.  She  was  spirited,  but  of  unblemished  history, 
so  that  even  Stacy  could  formulate  no  objection  to 
her.  In  a  recent  conversation  with  Robinson,  in 
which  she  attempted  to  arouse  him  to  an  invitation 
to  the  opera,  she  had  bemoaned  the  pitiable  condi- 
tion of  a  lone  but  respectable  woman  in  Rio  de  Ja- 
neiro, whose  only  privilege  was  the  monotonous  one 
of  hanging  over  the  window  sill  and  watching  the 
funerals  go  by. 

Mrs.  Laurie  was  only  too  glad  to  go.  Indeed,  so 
desolate  did  she  find  her  life,  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
she  would  have  gratefully  entertained  an  invitation 
to  a  picnic  to  the  North  Pole  or  the  coast  of  Cariboo, 
wherever  that  may  be.  On  the  following  morning 
Chester  officiously  conveyed  his  charge  to  the  wharf 
where,  according  to  the  printed  directions,  they 
might  expect  to  find  a  steamboat  in  waiting  for  the 
pilgrims  to  Penha.  The  Colonel  was  not  of  the 
party,  nor  was  Pauline.  Their  quiet  natures  antici- 
pated no  pleasure  in  the  fuss  and  weariness  of  a  re- 
ligious holiday.  And,  to  tell  the  truth,  Stacy  felt 
reproachfully  that  she  had  been  taught  better  things 
of  this  day,  until  Chester  comforted  her  with  his 
rude  logic. 

"This  is  not  Sunday,"  he  said.  "It  is  Domingo. 
Makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world." 

The  boy  gallantly  led  the  van,  until,  approaching 
the  vessel's  side,  he  saw  an  Apollyon  of  a  ticket  sel- 
ler blocking  the  way.  Then  he  suddenly  allowed 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK.  259 

himself  to  become  interested  in  a  dog  fight  until  Rob- 
inson, who  was  walking  with  Mrs.  Laurie,  had  con- 
ciliated that  official.  After  this  confession  of  weak- 
ness on  his  part  it  was  vain  for  him  to  try  to  gain 
ascendency  again.  Henceforth  the  party,  which  he 
had  taken  such  pains  to  organize,  noticed  him  only 
to  snub. 

They  found  a  shady  corner  upon  the  boat,  and 
from  there  issued  criticisms  upon  the  people  as  they 
arrived.  It  was  rude,  perhaps,  but  then  it  is  one  of 
the  perquisites  of  travel,  and  one  that  is  especially 
enjoyable  when  the  subjects  of  your  comments  do 
not  understand  your  language  ;  in  that  case  you  can 
say  the  most  unkind  things  of  your  neighbor,  aloud 
.and  in  his  hearing,  and  yet  with  impunity.  First  to 
attract  their  attention  was  a  bulky  negress  of  im- 
mense girth  and  a  color  so  densely  black  that  it  made 
the  atmosphere  gloomy  around  her.  In  her  arms 
she  carried,  tenderly  as  if  it  were  a  favorite  child,  a 
very  delicate  and  shapely  wax  leg,  reaching  from  the 
knee  downward.  It  was  a  shell  of  wax,  of  sym- 
metrical proportions  and  faultless  rnorbidezza.  The 
toes  were  pink-tipped,  the  flesh  was  white  where  it 
should  have  been  white  and  rosy  where  the  rose  was 
due.  The  incongruity  between  this  work  of  art  and 
its  sable  bearer,  a  portion  of  whom  it  was  supposed 
to  represent,  was  quite  absurd.  While  Robinson 
was  wondering  over  whose  last  this  model  could  have 
received  its  shape,  his  companion  turned  to  him  and, 
laughing,  said  : 

"I  can't  believe  that  that  was  moulded  over  her 
stocking." 


260  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Robinson  brightened  up. 

uHere,"  thought  he,  "I  have  a  partner  with 
some  animation  about  her.  I  might  travel  with 
Stacy  all  day  and  she  wouldn't  say  anything  as  viva- 
cious as  that.  Kingston  may  keep  her  if  he  wants 
her,  to  have  and  to  hold  for  this  day  at  least." 

Other  wax  works  appeared  as  the  boat  loaded  up ; 
arms,  hands,  heads,  and  small  children  entire,  car- 
ried by  people  with  arms  withered,  hands  crippled, 
heads  swollen,  or  babies  left  at  home  ill.  They  were 
on  the  way  to  their  Bethesda,  for  the  pool  was  going 
to  be  troubled  to-day.  Every  pilgrim  carried  some- 
thing. If  it  was  not  a  ceraceous  effigy,  it  was  per- 
chance a  musical  instrument ;  and  if  not  the  latter, 
he  brought  with  him  a  well-spring  of  consolation  in 
the  huge  horn  of  wine  that  was  swung  over  his 
shoulder.  Happy  is  the  man  that  carries  the  biggest 
horn,  and  the  proudest  cattle  of  the  southern  pampas 
had  yielded  up  their  glory  for  this  pilgrimage  to 
Penh  a. 

Before  our  party  there  sat  a  man  whose  wine  flask 
encircled  him  as  the  serpent  did  Laocoon. 

"Look  at  it,"  said  the  Naturalist.  "You  have 
heard  of  the  stick  that  was  too  crooked  to  lie  still  ; 
here  is  its  counterpart.  See  that  restless  horn,  how 
it  writhes  about  him  and  will  not  be  quiet  a  moment. 
Do  you  notice  how  its  nozzle  follows  his  mouth,  and 
is  never  out  of  convenient  reach  ? " 

"I  fancy  that  the  fascination  is  at  the  other 
source,"  replied  Robinson,  "and  that  the  mouth 
follows  the  flagon.  See,  their  lips  meet  again.  There 
is  great  affinity  between  those  two  mouths." 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK.  261 

"He  is  taking  a  horn,"  observed  Chester,  from 
behind. 

"Ha!  I'll  make  a  note  of  that.  A  discovery  in 
philology."  Robinson  jotted  down  a  memorandum 
in  his  note-book,  adding,  "  Send  it  to  Eichard  Grant 
White." 

"There's  where  you  get  your  < tangle-leg, '  too," 
continued  Chester,  feeling  encouraged.  "Great 
Caesar !  If  that  fellow  was  to  trip  up  on  that  horn, 
wouldn't  he  fall  down  a  good  deal!  I  reckon  he'd 
fall  down  three  or  four  times  before  he  could  get  up 
once.  It  would  be  ten  times  worse  than  falling  over 
a  wheelbarrow." 

"Chester,"  warned  his  sister,  "don't  work  your 
brain  too  hard  all  in  one  day.  You  are  young  yet, 
remember." 

To  keep  himself  in  equilibrium,  the  wine-bibbing 
subject  also  wore,  slung  to  his  right  side,  a  gourd 
vessel,  popularly  supposed  to  contain  cachaqa,  the 
cheap  and  efficacious  rum  of  the  country.  Between 
these  two  he  trimmed  himself  most  impartially,  mix- 
ing his  drinks  as  judiciously  and  methodically  as  an 
apothecary  mixes  his  drugs ;  and  ever  as  he  drank 
he  smiled  and  offered  the  beverage  to  his  neighbors 
around  him.  Here  was  the  case  of  a  man  truly 
happy  and  at  peace  with  the  world,  and  here  was  a 
religion  whose  followers  were  not  of  the  sad  and 
dyspeptic  order. 

"  *  Must  I  be  carried  to  the  skies 
On  flowery  beds  of  ease?' " 

hummed  Mrs.  Laurie. 

"It  wouldn't  be  safe  to  offer  that  fellow  those 


262  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

terms,"  said  Chester.     "  He  would  take  you  up  too 
quick." 

"  Religious  devotion  among  these  Portuguese  — 
for  these  are  nearly  all  Portuguese  that  we  see  —  is 
Hot  the  sober  ceremony  that  we  have  in  Anglo-Saxon 
countries,"  remarked  the  Naturalist.  "They  hear 
with  the  greatest  astonishment  that  it  is  not  consid- 
ered decorous  to  laugh  or  converse  during  the  ser- 
vice in  our  churches  at  home." 

"Here's  the  music,"  shouted  Chester,  attempting 
to  follow  the  somewhat  uncertain  strains.  "  Yes, 
it's  'Madame  Angot,'  as  usual." 

Three  minstrels  came  thrumming  and  whistling 
on  their  way  down  the  passage.  One  of  them  stag- 
gered against  the  old  lady  in  black,  knocked  her 
wax  leg  into  the  aisle,  accidentally  hit  it  with  his  foot, 
and  made  a  serious  dent  in  the  calf.  First,  the  ne- 
gress  uttered  some  kind  of  an  African  malediction, 
but  soon  her  brow  cleared  —  or,  rather,  smoothed, 
and  she  was  at  peace  again.  It  seemed  a  character- 
istic of  this  party  that  all  of  its  members  were  bound 
to  be  happy,  whether  or  no. 

Slowly  the  vessel  steamed  out  into  the  bay  and 
pointed  its  prow  northward.  It  threaded  its  way 
among  the  war  ships,  rusty  now,  and  rocking  in  the 
lazy  indolence  of  peace;  through  the  fleet  of  lighters 
at  rest,  looking  like  so  many  Noah's  arks  at  anchor; 
and  skirted  the  numerous  green  islands  which  dot 
this  long  blue  bay  of  the  River  of  January. 

"Yonder  is  our  church,"  said  the  Naturalist. 
"Do  you  see  it — a  white  chapel  crowning  a  great 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK.  263 

black  mound  of  rock,  apparently  as  inaccessible  as  a 
robber  baron's  castle  ?" 

It  was  yet  far  away,  however,  and  when  they 
stepped  on  shore  there  was  a  hot  and  tedious  walk 
before  them.  Stacy  was  inclined  to  complain. 

"Why  didn't  the  carriage  meet  us  here?"  she 
asked. 

"  Why  ?  Because  it  is  not  considered  the  proper 
thing  for  a  pilgrim  to  make  his  progress  to  the  Celes- 
tial City  in  a  barouche.  Besides,  there  isn't  room 
for  a  barouche  to  drive  through  the  Strait  Gate. 
They  run  on  the  other  route,  down  the  broad  boule- 
vard which  leads  to  destruction.  Christiana,  I  am 
ashamed  of  you  for  such  a  thought,"  continued  Rob- 
inson. "Just  think  of  our  many  fellow  travellers 
here  who  have  peas  in  their  boots,  and  yet  never 
complain." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  They  are  barefooted,  most  of 
them.  Besides,  I  guess  peas  can't  be  much  worse 
than  corns,"  said  Chester. 

The  road  wound  through  a  landscape  luxuriant  in 
its  richness,  but  desolately  empty  of  human  habita- 
tion. Over  the  rolling  country  there  were  scattered 
large  trees  of  a  foliage  so  dense  and  green  that  their 
shade  was  as  cool  and  refreshing  as  the  night  time. 
It  was  a  country  both  fruitful  and  charming,  yet 
there  were  none  to  take  advantage  of  it  except  the 
shiftless  inhabitants  of  the  few  mud  hovel's  that  they 
passed;  and  this  was  in  the  suburbs  of  a  great  city 
in  which  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  were 
sweltering  for  want  of  room. 
The  crowd  of  church-goers,  more  merry  than  pious, 


264  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

grew  larger  and  louder  at  every  moment.  It  was 
the  Derby  day  in  England ;  it  was  a  clam  bake  on 
Long  Island;  it  was  the  wedding  festivities  of  Ca- 
macho  and  Quiteria;  it  was  all  of  these  and  more, 
for  it  was  the  festa  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Kock,  the 
most  powerful  and  beneficent  of  all  saints  that  bless. 

At  the  foot  of  the  great  whale  Vback  of  rock,  which 
our  party  reached  after  long  sauntering,  they  found 
themselves  in  the  midst  of  what  was  perhaps  a  fair, 
perhaps  a  camp-meeting.  Families  were  bivouacked  in 
the  shade.  The  wheels  of  the  raffle  were  never  still. 
Cachaga  and  syrups  were  flowing  freely.  There  was 
music  in  every  group,  and  those  who  could  not  play 
the  fiddle,  sang.  The  sweets  of  indolence  and  Jacu- 
bina  were  everywhere.  The  trees  extended  their 
umbrageous  arms  over  the  sunburnt  brows  of  the 
travellers,  and  they  fain  would  stop. 

"I  am  tired  to  death,"  said  Mrs.  Laurie.  "I 
can  go  no  farther. 

'  There  is  no  joy  but  calm. 
Why  should  we  only  toil,  the  roof  and  crown  of  things?' 

"  No,"  urged  the  gentlemen.  "To  linger  here  is 
worse  than  death.  We'll  stop  when  we  come  back. 
First  let  us  pay  our  respects  to  our  lady  upon  the 
hill.  Know  ye  not,  faint-hearted  pilgrims,  that  this 
is  the  famous  Vanity  Fair,  established  by  Beelzebub 
and  his  companions  in  deviltry,  and  at  which  honors, 
titles,  pleasures,  husbands,  wives,  and  all  other  vain 
things,  are  sold?  Wait  till  we  come  back,  ladies," 
Robinson  persuaded,  "and  we'll  stop  and  buy  you 
a  husband  apiece." 

"And  you  a  wife?"  asked  Mrs.  Laurie. 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK.  265 

4 'No,  indeed,  not  at  present.  I'll  take  the  title  of 
duke  or  viscount  for  mine,  and  when  I  go  back  to 
the  States  I  can  get  a  wife  for  nothing  and  a  million 
of  dollars  thrown  in." 

"And  I,"  said  Chester,  "  first  I'll  get  an  intro- 
duction to  Balbinda,  and  then,  after  that,  I  think  I 
would  like  to  have  a  commutation  ticket  to  a  soda 
fountain  for  about  fifteen  minutes.  Oh,  what  a  coun- 
try !  Twelve  months  of  summer  in  a  year,  and  no 
soda  water." 

"  Why  is  that,  Mr.  Kingston  ?  "  questioned  Robin- 
son. "What's  the  reason  we  don't  find  any  soda 
down  here  ?  I  would  like  an  occasional  glass  my- 
self." 

' '  The  public  do  not  demand  it, ' '  was  the  reply. 
"The  artificial  taste  which  craves  the  airy  nothing- 
ness of  that  unsubstantial  beverage  is  yet  to  be 
formed  in  Brazil,  whose  people  drink  wine  and  coffee 
and  are  blissful  in  their  ignorance  of  the  aerated 
compounds  with  which  our  countrymen  inflate  them- 
selves." 

Robinson's  Yankee  instincts  came  to  the  surface. 

"  1  see  a  chance  for  a  speculation, ' '  he  said.  ' 4  I'll 
import  a  soda  fountain  and  set  it  up  in  the  Passeio 
Publico.  Chester,  you  may  run  it,  and  for  a  salary 
you  can  have  all  you  want  to  drink." 

"And  treats  for  Balbinda?  " 

"  Yes,  and  for  all  the  other  pretty  girls,  present 
company  not  excepted.  It  will  advertise  the  busi- 
ness and  promote  amicable  relations  between  the 
United  States  and  Brazil." 

"Do  so,"  said  the  Naturalist,  "  and  upon  the  mar- 


266  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

ble  slab  of  that  fountain  you  may  inscribe  the  epi- 
taph of  a  departed  fortune,  as  other  men  have  done 
before  you." 

"Yery  strange,"  said  Robinson.  "I  don't  see 
why  they  shouldn't  like  it." 

"  ISTor  can  they  see  why  you  don't  take  kindly  to 
feijoada.  The  fact  is  that  habit  is  stronger  than 
logic.  When  a  man's  appetite  is  governed  by  rea- 
son, you  may  argue  your  soda  water  into  public 
favor;  but  not  before.  At  present  you  can  only 
introduce  it  by  throwing  an  ocean  of  the  stuff  on  the 
market,  and  almost  giving  it  away  to  consumers.  Cre- 
ate a  fondness  for  it,  and  then  you,  or  your  successor 
when  you  are  in  the  alms  house,  can  charge  any  price 
you  please  and  get  as  rich  as  Bass  himself.  In  this 
same  way  a  popular  American  perfume  was  intro- 
duced into  Brazil.  The  company  sent  an  agent  here 
with  a  cargo  to  sell,  but  unfortunately,  the  people, 
feeling  no  need  of  his  toilet  water,  would  not  buy. 
In  despair  he  at  last  sold  out  at  auction,  receiving 
about  the  cost  of  the  bottles,  and  realizing  enough 
to  buy  a  return  ticket  to  his  employers.  This  sale, 
apparently  so  disastrous,  was  really  the  best  the  com- 
pany ever  made,  for  by  its  means  its  commodity 
reached  the  farthest  and  humblest  dressing  tables 
in  the  land.  The  luxury  soon  became  a  necessity, 
and  now  whoever  is  rich  enough  to  own  a  handker- 
chief also  feels  able  to  moisten  it  with  a  drop  of  this 
perfumery.  Only  in  this  costly  manner  can  you  and 
your  commercial  friends  hope  to  introduce  your  soda 
water,  lamp  chimneys,  wire  fences,  cooking  stoves, 


OUR  LADY  OF  THE  ROCK.  267 

gymnastic  apparatus,  and  other  articles  of  commerce 
in  which  you  deal." 

Stacy  was  not  interested  in  this  conversation,  and 
turned  the  tables  on  Robinson  by  remarking : 

"'Those  business  affairs  of  yours,  gentlemen,  are 
hardly  appropriate  to  this  occasion.  In  fact,  they 
remind  me  strongly  of  the  sordid  discourse  of  one 
Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman,  in  a  book  which  I,  as  well 
as  you,  have  read." 

The  mountain  was  before  them.  The  first  stage 
of  the  ascent  was  by  a  paved  road,  bounded  by  fine 
walls  of  masonry.  It  led  up  to  a  little  settlement  of 
two  or  three  houses  which  were  adjunct  to  the  church, 
but  for  which,  unfortunately,  there  was  not  room 
upon  the  crest  of  the  rock.  A  priest  or  two,  with 
sober  faces,  were  strolling  around.  Other  sacerdotal 
appearance  there  was  none,  but  of  lay  people  there 
was  legion.  They  were  thronging  into  the  main 
hall  of  the  principal  house,  from  which  there  pro- 
ceeded the  commotion  of  a  stock  exchange  in  ses- 
sion. 

"If  my  ears  do  not  deceive  me,"  observed  Robin- 
son, "that  is  a  church  fair.  Let  us  avoid  it.  It  is 
worse  than  Yanity  Fair  itself.  Hear  the  voice  of 
the  auctioneer!  He  is  probably  the  Talkative  that 
we  read  about  in  the  allegory." 

"Here  is  the  parsonage,"  said  Mrs.  Laurie,  who 
came  up,  faltering  with  exhaustion.  "It  looks  as 
cool  as  a  cellar  inside.  Let's  go  in  and  inquire  the 
way." 

Stepping  within,  they  found  the  inevitable  auction 
in  progress.  The  crier  held  up  to  view  a  faded 


268  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

flower  spitted  upon  a  hairpin.  The  interest  in  the 
sale  was  intense.  At  his  right  hand  stood  a  group 
of  very  handsome  young  ladies,  and  the  glittering 
eye  and  the  changing  color  of  the  one  in  advance 
left  little  room  for  doubt  as  to  whose  toilet  had  last 
been  robbed  for  the  good  of  mother  church.  Now 
the  question  was,  whose  pocket  was  to  be  depleted 
in  the  same  holy  cause.  There  were  several  aspi- 
rants for  the  honor  of  that  modern  martyrdom. 

44  Um  milreisf  "  cried  an  admirer  of  the  girl. 

44  Dous  !  "  remarked  his  rival,  coldly. 

44  Dous  equinhentos  !  "  said  the  first,  and  his  voice 
had  an  undertone  of  agony  as  he  reflected  that  he 
would  not  have  enough  money  to  pay  his  fare  home. 

44  Tres  !  "  added  the  rival,  with  a  business-like  air 
which  seemed  to  certify  that  his  patience  and  his 
pocket  were  alike  inexhaustible. 

The  lady  threw  a  sweep  of  her  grateful  eyes  over 
him.  Then  she  turned  to  the  other  with  a  question- 
ing look  of  expectation,  which  was  not  altogether 
free  from  scorn.  The  auctioneer,  less  delicate,  as 
auctioneers  usually  are,  hinted  broadly  that  any  sub- 
ject whose  week's  salary  did  not  amount  to  more 
than  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  would  have  to  buy  his 
hairpins  at  the  fancy  store,  where  they  were  cheaper, 
and  also  that  it  was  for  the  poor,  such  as  he,  that 
the  wild  flowers  grew. 

At  this  stage  the  object  of  so  much  disdain  dis- 
appeared into  the  crowd,  and  his  competitor  received 
the  prize. 

44  The  fellow  with  the  red  nose  gets  it,"  said  the 
auctioneer,  kindly  identifying  the  purchaser. 


XXIII. 
ON  THE  HEIGHTS. 

Each  day  less  distant  from  the  City's  Gate, 

Through  shade  and  sunshine,  hand  in  hand  they  pressed, 
Now  combatting  the  foes  that  lie  in  wait, 

And  now  in  pleasant  meadows  lulled  to  rest. 

—  E.  C.  STEDMAN. 


MERGING  into  the  open  air,  the  pilgrims  found 
themselves  at  the  end  of  the  road  and  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps.  Beyond  this  point  no  carriage  or 
other  wheeled  vehicle  could  go,  and  it  was  a  matter 
of  conjecture  how  the  material  of  the  church  was 
ever  lifted  to  the  high  eyrie  which  it  occupied. 

By  this  time  Stacy  was  at  Robinson's  side  again. 
Hitherto  the  party  had  not  seemed  in  equilibrium, 
but  now  its  elements  were  in  sympathy,  and  were 
contented,  all  except  Chester,  who  had  no  compan- 
ionship. He  had  attempted  handkerchief  flirtations 
with  numerous  precocious  children  of  the  opposite 
sex,  but  they  had  either  received  his  overtures  with 
ill-concealed  astonishment,  or  had  smiled  to  each 
other  in  that  unsatisfactory  way  which  left  the  boy  in 
doubt  as  to  whether  they  were  laughing  with  him  or 
laughing  at  him  —  a  very  important  distinction.  On 
other  occasions,  their  stern  mothers,  following  close 
after  them,  had  frowned  upon  him  severely,  and,  to 
disguise  his  artifice,  he  was  obliged  to  burst  into  con- 
vulsions of  coughing,  which  he  smothered  in  his 

263 


270  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

handkerchief.  On  the  whole,  this  day's  pleasure 
was  not  a  pronounced  success  for  Chester. 

In  seeking  Stacy's  company  again,  Robinson  was 
not  governed  by  motives  entirely  unselfish.  He  had 
noticed  that  Mrs.  Laurie  was  quite  too  trusting  in 
her  disposition  —  that,  in  fact,  she  had  intrusted  him 
with  the  greater  part  of  her  weight  in  the  first  stage 
of  the  ascent ;  and  he  reasoned  wisely  that,  although 
a  confiding  nature  is  all  very  well  for  a  sleigh  ride, 
when  it  comes  to  climbing  a  blistering  hill  of  Zion 
like  this,  it  is  not  comfortable  to  have  a  partner  who 
fits  too  tightly  upon  your  arm.  And  Stacy,  in  these 
latter  days,  had  been  more  than  usually  self-sup- 
porting. 

At  first  the  steps  were  long  and  broad,  as  if  this 
were  the  perron  to  some  grand  cathedral,  and  trees 
were  growing  by  the  walls  on  either  side.  Here,  as 
everywhere,  the  devotees  were  resting  their  weary 
feet.  In  the  centre  of  one  group  an  old  and  tooth- 
less negro  played  his  violin.  The  body  of  this  in- 
strument was  a  cocoanut  shell,  from  which  a  curved 
stick  projected,  curling  up  at  the  end  to  receive  the 
solitary  string  of  the  fiddle.  Upon  this  he  rasped, 
producing  two  notes,  high  or  low,  according  as  the 
string  was  taut  or  slack.  His  accompaniment  was  a 
song  of  equal  range  in  gamut,  but  when  the  fiddle 
sang  high  he  sang  low,  and  when  his  voice  squeaked 
the  fiddle  grumbled.  He  hugged  the  sounding  cocoa- 
nut  to  his  bosom,  either  because  he  loved  it  so,  or 
else,  in  obedience  to  some  acoustic  principle  which 
he  knew  but  did  not  understand,  to  give  the  shell 
greater  resonance.  The  artist,  like  a  nightingale, 


ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  271 

was  in  raptures  over  his  own  music ;  and,  as  he  im- 
provised, he  sang  his  withered  old  heart  fresh  again, 
remembering  the  happy  days  of  his  heathen  boy- 
hood in  some  land  of  Mumbo  Jumbo  on  the  African 
coasts. 

The  people  girded  at  him  in  derision  and  mocked 
his  song;  little  cared  he,  so  long  as  his  own  soul  was 
satisfied.  The  Naturalist  threw  him  a  coin.  Scrap- 
ing away,  he  did  not  seem  to  see  it  with  his  eyes, 
but  automatically  he  swung  his  flat  foot  over  it.  Rob- 
inson tossed  him  another,  and,  deserting  the  first, 
his  sandal  covered  it  in  similar  manner.  A  blaek 
boy  with  a  simple  countenance  artlessly  shuffled  his 
foot  over  the  Naturalist's  contribution,  was  seen  to 
curl  up  his  toes  and  walk  off,  and,  by  some  sleight- 
of-foot  performance,  the  money  went  with  him. 

"Buy  me  that  fiddle,  please,  Rob,"  begged  Ches- 
ter. "I  think  I  can  play  on  that." 

u  You  will  find  that  that  is  not  for  sale,"  answered 
the  Naturalist.  "You  might  purchase  the  man  him- 
self, body  and  soul,  for  the  price  of  a  dinner ;  but 
not  his  fiddle." 

"  Why  ?  It  can't  be  worth  much,"  argued  the  boy. 
"Cocoanuts  and  cats  arc  not  so  scarce  in  this  country." 

' c  Nor  were  reeds  scarce  in  Greece,  nor  is  it  proba- 
ble that  Pan's  cyrinx  was  ivory-tipped,  nor  that 
Apollo's  lyre  was  gold-mounted,  nor  that  either  one 
of  them  would  have  brought  much  in  the  market ; 
but  still  a  king  could  not  have  bought  them.  Thanks 
be  to  a  remnant  of  human  nature  yet  unperverted, 
there  are  some  things  left  in  this  world  that  are  not 
for  sale,  and  that  fiddle  is  one  of  them,  Chester." 


272  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"I  have  heard,"  observed  Mrs.  Laurie,  "how 
Paganini  made  a  violin  out  of  a  wooden  shoe,  but  I 
never  knew  before  that  there  was  music  in  a  cocoa- 
nut.  And  I  have  read  of  extracting  sunbeams  from 
cucumbers,  but  this  is  something  new." 

"Come,  Christiana,"  urged  Eobinson,  "we  must 
not  listen  longer  to  the  strains  of  this  siren.  I  sus- 
pect strongly  that  this  old  man  is  a  device  of  the 
devil,  if  he  is  not  the  devil  himself;  he  is  certainly 
black  enough  to  have  received  the  contents  of  Mar- 
tin Luther's  ink-pot.  Come.  We  have  yet  far  to 
go  to  reach  the  Celestial  City.  See  the  pure  white 
of  its  walls  in  the  distance  ;  and  the  flags,  how  they 
welcome  us  from  the  summit;  and  the  zealous  pil- 
grims with  their  staves,  how  they  are  outstripping 
us." 

"They  are  not  staves;  they  are  candles."  replied 
Stacy. 

"  Sure  as  you  live,  so  they  are.  See,  here  is  a 
pious  youth  with  a  candle  as  long  as  he  is,  and  he  is 
no  boy  in  stature.  I  thought  it  was  the  wax  model 
of  a  lamp-post  at  first. 

"Here  is  the  Strait  Gate,"  he  continued,  as  the 
road  became  a  mere  path  of  rock,  being  confined  to 
the  sharp  spine  of  the  whale's  back,  and  inclosed  on 
either  hand  by  railings  of  gas-pipe  to  protect  the 
people  from  the  destruction  which  awaited  them 
should  they  wander  from  the  narrow  way.  Here  be- 
gan a  series  of  steps,  one  for  each  day  in  the  year, 
which  are  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock.  It  was  a 
fearful  gauntlet  of  hot  sun  above,  burning  rock  for 
the  feet,  and  scorching  iron  for  a  hand-rail. 


ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  273 

Half  way  up  they  passed  a  man  who  was  making 
a  pilgrimage  of  grievous  penitence  to  atone  for  some 
misdeed  or  other.  Slowly  and  painfully  he  was  climb- 
ing the  rock  of  Our  Lady,  walking  upon  his  knees. 
He  was  cheating  the  saint,  however,  by  resting  much 
of  his  weight  upon  two  stalwart  friends  who  were 
supporting  him,  and  also  by  wearing  pads  under  his 
knees, —  aids  to  grace  which  were  not  included  in 
the  outfits  of  the  early  palmers. 

"How  nice  it  is  to  be  good,"  said  Stacy,  consol- 
ing herself.  "I  am  glad  we  are  not  as  wicked  as 
that  man." 

"But  it  would  be  still  nicer  to  have  an  elevator 
for  the  ultra-Pharisaical,  like  the  nearest  and  dearest 
of  my  friends,  here." 

"  I  wonder  what  horrible  thing  he  has  done. 
Please  ask  him,  Henry." 

"I  would,  but  I  don't  think  it  is  right  to  encour- 
age your  thirst  for  the  sensational.  It  isn't  likely 
he  has  done  anything  very  serious  —  killed  his 
mother-in-law,  perhaps." 

"  Ah  !  I  will  not  have  you  cultivate  the  habit  of 
speaking  of  mothers-in-law  in  that  frivolous  way." 

"  Ana-sta-tia  !  "  was  heard  in  the  terrible  voice  of 
Chester,  who  was  always  on  hand  at  the  wrong  time. 
"  Is  that  the  way  to  talk  to  strange  young  men  ?  I 
consider  it  very  unpretty." 

This  reproof  set  Stacy  to  reflecting,  and  it  oc- 
curred to  her  that  this  thoughtless  speech  of  hers 
might  mean  much  or  little,  according  to  the  construc- 
tion placed  upon  it.  Robinson  came  to  the  same 
conclusion,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  construe  it 
18 


274  ROUND  ABOUT  BIO. 

to  his  advantage  and  her  embarrassment.  They 
were  lovers  again. 

After  this  bit  of  reconciliation,  the  sun  was  not  so 
hot  nor  was  the  road  so  steep.  Love  reconciled  can 
make  a  barren  rock  as  pleasant  as  a  rose  garden. 
Could  Prometheus,  upon  the  Caucasian  cliffs,  have 
had  the  ecstatic  sensation  of  making  up  after  a  tiff 
with  one  of  the  goddesses,  he  could  have  quite  for- 
gotten that  his  liver  was  out  of  order. 

The  top  of  this  mound  of  gneiss  had  been  blasted 
and  planed  away,  leaving  a  level  surface,  oval  in 
shape,  in  the  centre  of  which  the  unassuming  little 
church  was  built.  Between  its  walls  and  the  edge  of 
the  cliff  there  was  just  room  enough  for  a  narrow 
promenade,  separated  from  the  precipice  by  an  iron 
fence.  At  the  front  of  the  house  a  terrace  shelf  had 
been  constructed  in  the  rock,  its  floor  had  been  cov- 
ered with  loam,  and  some  one  had  planted  a  garden 
of  flowers  there — roses,  pinks,  and  the  many  blos- 
soms that  are  strange  to  us.  A  fountain  of  water 
was  flowing  before  the  door.  Peering  through  the 
iron  railing,  Stacy  could  see  the  tops  of  the  trees 
hundreds  of  feet  below  her.  Looking  out  over  and 
around  the  bay,  the  eye  took  in  all  of  that  grandeur 
of  mountain  scenery  for  which  Rio  de  Janeiro  is  cele- 
brated. 

"  The  Celestial  City  is  well  worth  the  pilgrimage," 
said  she. 

"  I  could  not  have  believed  it  possible.  Here  is  a 
clean,  fresh  and  airy  Catholic  church.  But  then,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  bring  the  material  up  here  for 


ON  TEE  HEIGHTS.  275 

making  a  muss;  perhaps  that  accounts  for  it.  Let's 
go  in  and  see  her  ladyship." 

A  negro  soldier,  standing  guard  at  the  entrance, 
swung  his  musket  forward,  and  the  bayonet  almost 
grazed  Stacy's  face. 

"  The  other  door,"  he  said. 

"  You're  a  brute!"  exclaimed  Robinson.  "I've 
a  notion  to  dip  you  into  this  tub  of  water." 

"Don't!"  pleaded  Stacy.  " Maybe  it's  holy 
water." 

To  the  other  door  they  went.  Robinson  elbowed 
his  way  through  the  sweltering  mass  and  dragged 
Stacy  after  him.  A  portly  negress  heaped  vitupera- 
tion upon  him  for  tearing  her  dress.  He,  seeking  to 
appease  her  wrath,  went  to  offer  her  money,  but  gave 
it  by  mistake  to  another,  who  seized  it  and  departed 
with  a  shrill  cackle  of  laughter  at  the  joke.  He 
stepped  on  the  coat  tail  of  a  respectable  man .  who 
was  down  on  his  knees  on  the  floor,  and  he  felt  guilt- 
ily that  this  was  the  worst  crime  that  he  had  ever 
yet  committed. 

"  Henry,  take  off  your  hat ;  the  folks  are  looking 
at  you,"  whispered  his  companion. 

"  By  George,  I  forgot  it.  I'm  all  in  a  flurry.  Isn't 
this  the  jammedest  place  ever  you  saw  ?" 

There  were  people  black,  white,  and  of  all  inter- 
mediate shades  ;  mothers  and  daughters;  fathers  and 
whole  families ;  lovers  and  sweethearts,  the  latter 
adorned  with  tin-types  of  the  former  in  huge  bosom 
pins  —  a  low  habit,  and  equivalent  to  wearing  one's 
heart  on  one's  sleeve.  There  were  dusky  women 
whose  crinkled  hair  was  divided  into  two  heavy 


276  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

shocks,  standing  like  horns  on  each  side  of  the  head, 
and  other  women  whose  flowing  tresses  were  con- 
fined in  those  baggy  and  untidy  nets,  which,  whether 
in  fashion  or  out  of  fashion,  will  always  be  an  abom- 
ination in  the  eyes  of  all  lovers  of  neatness  and  good 
taste.  There  were  men  with  coats  and  men  without, 
with  neck-ties  and  without,  but  principally  without ; 
with  shirts  buttoned  and  shirts  open,  but  mostly  the 
latter.  But  it  was  too  much  to  hope  that  this  would 
be  a  select  affair,  seeing  that  its  patronage  was 
chiefly  derived  from  the  quarry  men,  muleteers,  and 
small  vendors  of  the  city. 

"  Do  you  think  all  of  these  folks  are  going  to  Heav- 
en, Henry?"  asked  Stacy,  somewhat  irreverently. 

"I  do  not  know,  indeed;  but  if  they  are,  it's  no 
more  than  fair  that  we  should  have  a  glance  at  the 
other  party,  so  as  to  take  our  choice.  As  for  me,  I 
want  to  go  with  the  crowd  that  uses  more  soap  and 
cologne.  I  don't  see  why  they  can't  throw  a  drop 
or  two  of  bergamot  into  their  consecrated  water." 

uHush  !  I  am  afraid  it  is  wicked  to  talk  that 
way." 

The  priests  were  transacting  their  unintelligible 
business  at  the  altar.  The  lady  singers  of  the  choir 
were  leaning  over  the  parapet  and  coolly  staring  at 
the  worshippers  below,  just  as  they  have  been  known 
to  do  in  other  and  less  heathen  lands  than  this.  The 
members  of  the  brass  band  were  dislocating  their 
instruments  and  emptying  the  moisture  from  the 
tubes,  and  all  of  the  time  the  pilgrims  were  coming, 
going,  jostling,  talking,  kneeling,  and  praying  be- 
fore the  waxen  effigies  of  the  saint  which  stood  in 


ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  277 

the  niches  of  the  wall,  overhung  with  garlands  of 
artificial  roses. 

Stacy  inadvertently  stepped  before  one  of  these 
lowly  worshippers. 

Robinson  rebuked  her. 

"  You  thoughtless  girl!  come  out  of  the  way. 
Don't  you  see  that  this  man  is  getting  you  confused 
with  our  lady.  Ah,  he  is  worshipping  to  some  pur- 
pose now.  Before  you  eclipsed  the  saint,  he  was 
going  it  like  a  machine ;  but  now  he  seems  to  be  ex- 
periencing a  revival  of  religion." 

Stacy  did  not  hear  him. 

"Did  you  ever?"  she  exclaimed.  " There  is  a 
man  with  two  tooth-picks  over  one  ear.  How  very 
absurd !  And  there  are  none  at  all  upon  the  other 
side." 

"  Yery  bad  taste,  indeed,"  said  Robinson. 

"He  must  have  lunched  early  to-day.  I  suppose 
after  dinner  he  will  have  three.  I  do  hope  he  will 
put  the  third  on  the  other  side." 

"  We  are  about  to  have  some  heavy  music.  Shall 
we  stay  and  endure  it?"  asked  Robinson. 

"  It's  as  bad  as  to  wear  two  ear-drops  in  one  — 

The  girl's  complaints  were  drowned  in  a  grand 
blurt  of  music  from  the  brass  instruments  of  the 
orchestra.  The  singers'  voices  swelled  high  and 
higher  in  some  canticle  of  praise,  but  they  could 
not  get  above  the  deafening  groaning  and  braying 
of  the  horns.  Robinson  and  Stacy  threaded  their 
way  vigorously  toward  the  door  of  exit.  By  its  side 
there  was  a  table,  upon  which  numerous  rolls  of 
paper,  tied  with  ribbons,  were  lying.  Presiding 


278  ROUND  ABOUT  RlO. 

over  this  counter  there  were  two  or  three  men  in 
priestly  black  gowns.  They  were  not  priests,  how- 
ever, but  were  probably  specials  enlisted  for  this  occa- 
sion, as  their  faces  had  all  of  the  worldly  look  of 
insurance  agents  or  modern  theological  students. 
When  business  was  not  pressing  they  stroked  their 
moustaches  and  made  eyes  to  the  pretty  girls;  two 
privileges  denied  to  the  brethren  of  the  holy  order. 

As  the  pilgrims  entered  they  had  dealings  with 
these  officials.  To  them  they  delivered  their  contri- 
butions of  candles,  which  were  carelessly  shocked 
together  in  a  corner,  and  also  their  anatomical  speci- 
mens, which  were  thrown  into  a  loose  heap  under 
the  table,  where  hands,  feet,  masks,  and  statuettes 
of  wax  lay  in  an  unpleasant  confusion.  Then  each 
one  laid  down  a  bank-note  and  received  one  of  the 
ribboned  scrolls,  which  he  cherished  as  if  it  was  a 
college  diploma,  to  which,  in  fact,  it  was  not  very 
dissimilar. 

kt  As  I  live,  they  are  selling  permits  there,  Stacy. 
Do  you  think  he  will  let  me  have  one  ?  Do  you 
think  he  will  know  I  am  a  heretic  ?" 

"  Go  on,  he  won't  know  the  difference.  You 
look  disreputable  enough  to-day  to  be  a  true  believer. 
Wait,  let  me  pull  your  necktie  around  under  your 
ear.  Now  unbutton  your  vest,  and  he  will  sell  you 
as  many  as  you  want.  Get  me  one,  too,  please." 

"No,  Stacy,"  he  replied,  pressing  her  hand.  "I 
would  rather  you  wouldn't  have  one.  I  might  get 
one  for  the  Colonel,  but  I  don't  like  to  take  the 
responsibility.  Perhaps  your  ma  wouldn't  approve 
of  it." 


ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  279 

Stacy  thought  it  strange  that  he  should  deny  her 
a  slight  request  like  this,  but  then  reflected  that  he 
might  not  have  much  money  with  him,  and  it  would 
hardly  be  delicate  for  her  to  persist. 

"Keep  close  to  me,  now,  Stacy.  If  the  fellow 
asks  me  any  questions,  I  am  betrayed." 

But  he  was  not  questioned.  With  an  air  of  bold- 
ness he  approached  the  counter,  noticed  the  denom- 
ination of  the  bank-notes  lying  there  in  a  pile, 
silently  covered  them  with  one  of  similar  value, 
received  the  coveted  paper,  and  retired. 

"Now  we'll  go  off  and  open  it  and  see  what  it 
says,"  he  continued,  starting  for  the  door.  "Re- 
markably cheap,  too,  only  fifty  cents." 

Having  slipped  the  ribbon  off,  he  unrolled  the 
paper,  and  found  a  very  poor  print,  representing  a 
woman  of  uninteresting  face,  who  stood  on  a  lofty 
height,  surrounded  by  clouds,  tempests,  and  impos- 
sible lightnings.  It  was  Our  Lady  of  the  Rock. 

The  greatest  disgust  overspread  Robinson's  face. 

"Well,  that  is  a  pretty  sell!"  he  groaned. 

"  Why,  you  didn't  expect  to  get  a  very  fine  engrav- 
ing for  half  a  dollar,  did  you?"  laughed  Stacy. 

"  I  didn't  expect  to  get  a  picture  at  all." 

"What  then?" 

"I  thought  I  was  buying  an  indulgence." 

"A  what?"  asked  Stacy,  dropping  his  arm. 

"An  indulgence,  a  recreation  permit,  such  as  the 
Pope  grants  to  his  pious  ones.  I  was  calculating  on 
having  a  time  to-night." 

"You  wicked  man!"  cried  Stacy,  in  horror.  "If 
I  believed  you  I  would  never  speak  to  you  again, 


280  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

never,  never,  nev  —  Oh,  see,  Henry,  that  man  has 
put  his  cigarette  over  his  right  ear,  now,  and  he 
looks  ever  so  much  better.  He  had  such  a  half- 
dressed  appearance  with  no  ornaments  but  tooth- 
picks, and  those  all  on  one  side.  But  he  is  quite 
symmetrical  now, "  she  added,  with  an  air  of  satisfac- 
tion, forgetting  all  about  the  dispensation. 

They  found  Mrs.  Laurie,  the  Naturalist,  and 
Chester,  on  the  shady  side  of  the  church,  seated  on 
the  narrow  edge  of  stone  which  served  as  a  basis  for 
the  fence.  They  were  all  thoroughly  wilted,  and 
the  latter  was  especially  unhappy  in,  being  wedged 
in  between  two  negro  women  who  were  anything 
but  sylphs,  and  whose  flounces  met  across  his  knees. 

"  Come  here,  Stacy,  and  let  me  pin  up  your  skirt; 
it  is  torn,"  said  Mrs.  Laurie. 

"If  you  would  straighten  out  your  hat,  Robin- 
son, you  would  show  off  to  better  advantage,"  sug- 
gested the  Naturalist. 

" Hope  you  prayed  for  me,"  said  Chester.  "If 
you  didn't,  I'll  have  to  run  on  my  good  behavior 
for  another  year.  I'm  too  comfortable  here  to  think 
of  going  inside.  What'll  you  give  me  for  my  seat, 
Eob  ?" 

Still  the  pilgrims  came  and  went,  and  the  hustling 
and  crowding  and  fanning  and  joking  continued. 
The  twang  and  toot  of  musical  instruments  heralded 
the  approach  of  a  delegation  of  important  dimen- 
sions. They  came  close  upon  the  heels  of  the  play- 
ers, beating  time  with  candles  and  umbrellas,  and 
dancing  with  a  weary  shuffle  which  was  indicative 
of  an  enthusiasm  at  its  very  last  gasp.  Before  the 


ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  281 

church  door  the  band  halted  its  steps  but  did  not 
cease  its  strains.  One  beat  a  drum,  a  second  thrum- 
med a  guitar,  a  third  worked  away  at  a  fiddle,  a 
fourth  blew  a  cornet,  and  the  fifth  —  well,  he  deserves 
a  sentence  to  himself.  He  was  an  elderly  man  with 
gray  hair  and  the  self-satisfied  expression  and  dia- 
conal  appearance  of  one  who  was  an  important  man 
in  his  parish  at  home.  It  was  his  part  to  carry  the 
bell  of  a  clock  mounted  on  a  fragment  of  umbrella 
handle.  From  this,  with  the  aid  of  a  small  ham- 
mer, he  evoked  silvery  sounds  in  unison  with  the 
general  tune,  whatever  that  might  be.  His  duty 
was  also  to  marshal  the  group  ;  and  when  an  out- 
sider brought  the  clatter  of  a  kettle-drum  to  bear 
upon  the  prevailing  harmony,  the  deacon  advanced 
upon  the  interloper  with  an  unquailing  eye,  and 
awed  him  and  frowned  him  around  the  church  cor- 
ner and  into  silence. 

Then  the  fiddler,  who  was  a  young  man,  wearing 
a  clown's  hat  with  green  cock's  feather,  began  to 
sing  in  a  snarling  falsetto  voice,  and  not  all  of  the 
operatic  flights  of  the  choir  inside  attracted  attention 
and  admiration  as  this  did. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  that  music  !"  cried  Stacy.  "  I 
would  learn  to  play  it  and  astonish  the  folks  with  it 
when  we  get  home." 

"  That  music,"  answered  the  Naturalist,  "  is  like 
a  Colorado  morning  or  the  play  of  moonlight  upon 
the  waters  :  it  is  to  be  enjoyed  while  it  lasts  ;  but  the 
artist  does  not  live  who  can  perpetuate  it.  How- 
ever, I  have  the  words  here,"  and  he  referred  to  a 


282  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

piece  of  paper  upon  which  he  had  been  taking  notes. 
He  translated  them  for  her. 

'*  My  cane  is  little  and  green, 
0,  my  little  green  cane ! 
All  speckled  and  spotted  with  green, 
And  spotted  and  speckled  again. 

"  If  ever  you  go  to  Bougariga 

Of  Cantonhede  beware, 
For  the  biggest  devil  that  ever  you  saw 
Is  painted  upon  the  walls  there. 

"The  little  green  cane  in  the  sea 

Goes  swimming  around  the  ship's  side. 
And  it's  yet  to  be  born  is  she 
Who  is  going  to  be  my  bride." 

Again  they  resumed  their  march,  circling  the 
church  as  if  it  were  a  Jericho,  and  singing  as  they 
went  — 

"  Oh,  minha  canniriha  bierde, 

Oh,  minha  bierde  canninha, 
Salpicadinha  de  bierde, 
De  bierde  salpicadinha. " 

With  a  boy's  instinct  Chester  followed  them,  but 
he  had  not  been  gone  long  when  he  returned  with 
news  of  an  important  discovery. 

"  Come  a  running  !  "  cried  he.  "  Beats  Mrs.  Jar- 
ley  all  to  pieces." 

He  led  them  to  a  window  in  the  rear  of  the  church. 
Peering  in,  one  could  see  a  vestry-room  where  two 
or  three  priests  and  two  or  three  guests  were  at  ease. 
Candles  were  burning  before  some  figures  of  OUF 
Lady,  while  upon  the  floor  there  were  at  least  a  cord 
of  others  awaiting  their  turn,  which  would  come  some 
time  during  the  year.  On  the  opposite  wall  hung  a 


ON  THE  HEIGHTS.  283 

painting  of  a  vessel  in  a  storm,  which,  in  the  last 
hour  of  peril,  had  been  saved  by  the  miraculous 
intervention  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Rock.  So  they  were 
informed  by  a  volunteer  cicerone,  who  said  that  this 
picture  was  the  gift  of  the  never-to-be-sufficiently- 
grateful  officers  and  crew  of  the  same. 

Aside  from  this  the  apartment  was  fall  of  the  ex 
voto  anatomical  offerings  of  the  afflicted,  the  mate- 
rialized prayers  of  the  hundreds  of  the  faithful,  who 
were  neglecting  the  doctor  and  his  doses  while 
hoping  against  hope  for  some  special  dispensation  in 
their  behalf.  Every  available  inch  of  the  walls  was 
covered.  Hands,  feet,  legs,  arms,  bosoms,  bodies, 
integral  and  partial,  and  heads,  entire  and  fractional, 
gave  a  most  ghastly  appearance  to  this  little  museum. 
Some  were  pure  white,  some  were  tinted  carnation 
color,  while  yet  others  were  painted  in  the  revolting 
detail  of  ulcers  and  such  imperfections  of  the  flesh. 
This  exhibition  did  not  command  the  attention  of 
the  party  very  long. 

"  Just  look  here  before  you  go,"  pleaded  Chester, 
who  feared  that  his  discovery  was  not  receiving  the 
appreciation  that  it  merited. 

Upon  the  window-sill  there  was  a  heap  of  disjecta 
membra,  piled  there  for  want  of  room  elsewhere. 
The  hot  sun,  beating  in  upon  them,  had  melted  the 
wax  in  places,  producing  the  most  lugubrious  results. 

"Only  see  !"  cried  Chester,  "here  is  a  man  whose 
month  has  run  all  over  his  face." 

"Don't  be  low,  Chester,"  said  Stacy. 

"And  this  one's  nose  is  on  crooked,  and  here's  a 
head  caved  in,  and  there's  a  leg  collapsed,  and  here's 


284  ROUND  ABOUT  BIO. 

another  case  of  the  Siamese  twins,  and  there's  a  boy 
who  looks  as  if  he  had  been  through  a  wringing- 
machine." 

By  this  time  the  party  were  well  on  their  way  of 
descent,  and  the  youthful  expositor  was  obliged  to 
turn  and  follow  them. 

"They  miss  the  best  part  of  everything,"  he 
grumbled  to  himself. 


XXIY. 
VANITY  FAIK. 

Glorious  it  was  to  see  how  the  open  region  was  filled  with  horses 
and  chariots,  with  trumpeters  and  pipers,  with  singers  and  players 
upon  stringed  instruments,  to  welcome  the  pilgrims  as  they  went 
and  followed  one  another  in  at  the  beautiful  gate  of  the  city. 

— BUNYAN. 

A  KKIVING  at  the  Vanity  Fair  on  the  plains 
J-Ju  below,  they  drooped  on  the  grass  under  the 
dense  foliage  of  a  tree,  wiped  their  brows,  and,  like 
the  rest  of  this  little  world,  having  been  duly  relig- 
ious in  the  forenoon,  they  made  up  their  minds  to 
enjoy  themselves  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

"  Chester,  run  and  hunt  up  our  carriage.  It  was 
to  meet  us  here.  Come,  there  is  caju  cream  there, 
boy." 

He  found  it  standing  in  the  glare  of  the  sun.  The 
detached  mules  were  tied  to  a  neighboring  fence.  The 
driver  was  investing  his  week's  earnings  in  a  wheel 
of  fortune,  intent  upon  securing  a  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne which  was  numbered  among  the  prizes  ;  but 
as  yet  his  winnings  were  limited  to  breastpins  and 
baby-rattles,  articles  for  which  he  had  no  use  what- 
ever. The  caju  ice  was  melted  and  was  flowing  in  a 
sloppy  disorder. 

"  Call  the  villain  !"  said  Robinson,  sternly. 

The  culprit  appeared.  In  one  corner  of  his  mouth 
was  a  cigarette;  on  the  other  side,  a  tooth-pick.  The 

285 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


muscles  of  his  face  worked  nervously,  and,  with  a 
duplex  action,  which  was  a  study  for  the  Naturalist, 
he  was  smoking  the  cigarette  and  chewing  ihepalito 
at  one  time. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  for  yourself,  sir  ?" 

He  had  much  to  say  for  himself.  He  had  left  the 
carriage  in  the  shade  a  few  hours  before.  How  was 
he  to  know  that  the  sun  was  going  to  shift  around 
in  this  inexplicable  manner  ?  You  couldn't  expect 
an  accomplished  astronomer  in  an  humble  coach- 
man, could  you?  And  how  could  they  hold  him 
responsible  for  the  doings  of  the  solar  system  ?  He 
wasn't  a  Joshua,  was  he  ? 

He  was  willing  to  argue  farther ;  but  it  was  re- 
freshment, and  not  argument,  that  this  party  was 
thirsting  for.  At  their  right  hand  was  a  small  moun- 
tain of  watermelons,  over  which  two  or  three  huck- 
sters were  presiding.  Like  the  carriage,  they  had  been 
deposited  in  the  shade,  but  now  the  sun  was  blanch- 
ing the  healthy  green  out  of  their  complexions. 

"Shall  we  cut  a  watermelon?  "  asked  Robinson. 

"  I  think  we  may  venture,"  responded  Mrs.  Laurie. 
4  c  There  is  a  drug-store  right  across  the  way. ' ' 

In  truth,  a  speculative  pharmacist  had  established 
his  booth  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road.  It  was 
a  grim  commentary  on  the  wilted  fruit,  which  had 
lost  all  of  its  inner  blush  and  crispness,  and  was  of  a 
flaccid  white,  disagreeably  suggestive  of  cholera,  dis- 
maying all  but  Chester  and  the  coachman. 

"  This  druggist's  enterprise,"  observed  the  Natur- 
alist, "reminds  me  of  the  sagacious  undertaker  of 
Virginia  City.  When  I  was  in  Nevada  the  last  time, 


VANITY  FAIR.  287 


they  had  a  prize-fight  one  Sunday  at  the  Five-Mile 
House,  just  outside  of  Virginia,  and  I  went." 

uHow  very  wicked!  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Laurie. 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  a  much  politer  affair  than  this. 
As  I  was  saying,  there  was  an  undertaker  in  the  town 
who  had  an  eye  for  business,  and  he  sent  a  hearse  out 
to  the  scene  of  conflict  and  had  his  agent  go  through 
the  crowd  and  circulate  cards  advertising  cheap  cof- 
fins, ready-made,  warranted  a  comfortable  fit.  There 
was  a  business  talent  that  was  worth  a  silver  mine. 
Ah,  Yirginia  City  is  the  place  for  life  and  enterprise. 
Their  practical  jokes  are  scintillations  of  a  true 
genius.  The  town  is  waked  up  every  morning  by  a 
practical  joke." 

"They  are  not  altogether  deficient  in  that  line 
down  here,"  said  Robinson.  "I  strongly  suspect 
that  this  coachy  of  ours  is  eating  all  of  this  water- 
melon so  as  to  have  an  excuse  for  going  into  convul- 
sions and  calling  for  brandy. " 

These  were  the  last  hours  of  Our  Lady's  novenas, 
and  the  bottles  of  beer,  the  horns  of  wine,  and  the 
gourds  and  skins  of  cachaga  were  fast  running  dry. 
To  drink  was  to  be  happy,  and  to  be  happy  was  to 
be  musical.  A  half-dozen  inebriated  pilgrims  were 
dancing  fandango  near  at  hand.  One  picked  his 
guitar,  the  others  chanted,  and  all  danced.  "While 
the  sun  beat  fiercely  on  them  and  the  perspiration 
trickled  down  their  flushed  faces,  they  twirled  their 
arms  over  their  heads,  approached,  retreated,  and  cir- 
cled in  figures  which  might  have  been  graceful  if 
they  had  not  involved  the  loss  of  so  much  good,  use- 
ful, manual  labor.  Another  party,  made  up  of  two 


288  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

old  cronies  of  darkies,  took  their  amusement  more 
easily.  They  came  down  the  road  together,  dancing- 
side  by  side,  utterly  oblivious  to  all  of  the  rest  of 
the  world,  and  anxious  only  to  be  agreeable  to 
each  other.  The  upper  portions  of  their  bodies  were 
motionless  ;  their  feet  did  all  the  work.  With  these 
they  wiped  the  road  as  they  walked  in  a  lazy  shuffle 
that  was  really  quite  peaceable  to  contemplate;  so  it 
seems  that,  even  in  their  recreation,  the  negroes  of 
the  tropics  are  more  indolent  than  those  of  colder 
climes.  They  were  singing  to  each  other  in  a  confi- 
dential way  which  made  our  friends  feel  like  eaves- 
droppers to  listen  to  them.  One  pursued  the  argu- 
ment of  the  song  with  a  droning  voice,  while,  at  the 
refrain,  his  companion  would  chime  in  with  a  shrill 
outburst  that  was  like  the  sharp  cry  of  a  coyote. 

These  heathen  melodists  passed  on.  Behind  them 
came  a  man  and  his  wife.  His  cachaga  gourd  was 
now  so  empty  that  it  rattled  when  he  walked.  Sud- 
denly he  stopped,  as  if  he  feared  that  he  had  for- 
gotten something.  Thrusting  his  hands  deep  into  the 
pockets  of  his  pantaloons,  he  exclaimed : 

"  Where  is  that  devil  of  a  saint  got  to  now  ?" 

"  Why,  it's  in  your  hat,  of  course,  Candido,  where 
you  put  it  and  where  it  ought  to  be,"  replied  his 
wife. 

"  Ah,  so  it  is,"  he  said,  with  relief. 

" Doesn't  that  sound  a  little  irreverent?"  asked 
Stacy. 

"  Oh,  no,"  answered  the  Naturalist.  "The  people 
are  on  very  neighborly  terms  with  Our  Lady.  They 
are  exceedingly  polite  to  each  other,  but  they  are 


VANITY  FAIR.  289 


hardly  civil  toward  the  saints  in  glory  sometimes. 
When  I  went  up  on  the  Amazonas  last  year  I  took 
a  dozen  or  so  of  cheap  prints  of  the  canonized  with 
me.  I  found  them  very  good  letters  of  introduction 
into  the  best  society  of  the  Amazonian  backwoods. 
In  one  house,  where  I  was  resting  for  the  night,  I 
gave  the  proprietor  a  gaudy  picture  of  saint  some- 
body, I  forget  who.  It  pleased  him,  but  it  puzzled 
him,  for  he  could  not  read  her  name  printed  on  the 
card.  He  turned  to  me  for  information. 

"  '  Como  se  chama  o  bichu?')  he  asked." 

"  And  that  means  —  " 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  beast  ?" 

"That  sounds  like  an  Englishman's  question,"" 
said  Robinson. 

4  4  It  sounds  dreadfully  disrespectful  to  me,  and  I 
am  a  Protestant,  too,"  added  Stacy. 

' '  Oh,  there  is  nothing  very  bad  in  the  word  bichu. 
It  has  as  broad  a  meaning  as  the  word  '  outfit '  in 
our  Western  Territories.  It  is  applied  indifferently 
to  the  angels,  whether  above  or  below;  to  a  comet 
and  a  fire-fly;  to  a  flea  and  a  horse;  and  to  a  ship  at 
sea  and  a  hand-cart  in  the  streets." 

"  But  what  do  they  do  with  these  wretched  pic- 
tures ?  See,  almost  every  man  has  one  in  his  hat- 
band. What  have  you  done  with  yours,  Mr.  Rob- 
inson ?" 

uOh!  mine?"  he  answered,  smiling  feebly.  "I 
am  saving  it  till  I  get  home.  I  contemplate  buying 
a  clock  and  turning  it  into  a  locket  and  wearing  this 
picture  in  it." 

4 '  They  keep  them  to  look  at  and  adore,"  contin- 
19 


290  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

ued  the  Naturalist.  "And  even  if  they  are  out  of 
sight  they  are  very  good  things  to  have  around  the 
house,  like  a  horse-shoe  or  any  other  periapt.  So 
they  keep  them  on  hand  and  fancy  that,  in  some 
mysterious  way,  the  pictures  keep  them  from  harm. 
In  that  same  trip  up  the  Amazonas  I  was  accompa- 
nied by  a  young  Brazilian  gentleman,  a  most  amia- 
ble and  intelligent  fellow.  On  leaving  home  his 
sisters  packed  his  trunk  for  him,  storing  it  with  the 
thousand  useful  trifles  that  he  would  be  likely  to  for- 
get, such  as  castile  soap,  buttons,  a  Bible,  and  an 
almanac,  and  in  the  bottom  they  placed  an  engrav- 
ing of  their  favorite  saint,  to  whose  patronage  they 
commended  their  brother.  But  the  joke  of  it  was 
that  he  never  knew  it  was  there  until  he  came  home 
again." 

"And  did  your  friend  lead  a  charmed  life  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Laurie. 

"It  may  have  been  a  charmed  life;  it  certainly 
was  not  a  charming  one.  He  had  the  fever  every 
other  day ;  he  lost  the  best  part  of  his  baggage  in 
going  over  the  rapids  ;  a  scorpion  bit  him  on  the 
little  finger;  and  the  mosquitoes  would  come  half  a 
mile  to  dine  at  his  expense." 

The  man  with  the  saint  in  his  hat  was  gone. 
After  him  there  came  one  with  a  rosary  of  large 
wooden  beads  around  his  neck.  Another  wore  a 
peculiar  chain,  each  one  of  whose  links  was  a  ring 
of  cake.  They  were  candied  over  with  red,  green, 
and  blue  powders,  which  were  dusting  his  clothes 
as  he  walked. 

"If  that  is  his  rosary,  and  those  perforated  bis- 


VANITY  FAIR.  291 


cuits  are  his  Ave  Marias,"  said  the  Naturalist, 
"what  shall  we  call  that  affair  which  he  has  slung 
over  his  shoulders?" 

"It  must  be  the  Pater  Noster,"  responded  Rob- 
inson. "  It  looks  like  the  father  of  all  jumbles." 

"  That's  the  life-preserver  for  me  !"  cried  Chester. 
"  Useful  on  sea  or  land.  I'm  going  to  buy  one." 

They  were  referring  to  a  huge  ring  of  cake,  not 
unlike  a  life-preserver,  which  this  man  was  carrying 
in  addition  to  his  rosary  of  titbits.  A  keen  lookout, 
sustained  by  Chester,  revealed  the  fact  that  this  was 
a  popular  way  of  putting  up  luncheon,  and  that 
many  were  wearing  these  circlets  of  bread  for  hat- 
bands. From  the  persons  of  others  dangled  strings 
of  crackers  which  clashed  with  their  empty  gourds. 
They  were  victualled  as  if  the  nine  days  were  now 
beginning,  instead  of  at  an  end. 

"They  are  too  happy  to  eat,"  suggested  Stacy. 

Perhaps  it  was  so.  What  with  music,  water- 
melons, religion,  rum,  and  other  light  refreshments, 
perhaps  they  were  feeling  no  desire  for  things  so 
gross  as  cakes  and  crackers,  but  were  saving  them 
for  the  children  at  home. 

They  were  all  in  good  humor.  It  seemed  to  be  a 
part  of  their  duty  to  themselves  to  let  no  unpleasant 
incident  mar  their  day's  enjoyment.  A  straggling 
pedestrian  was  sauntering  along  the  roadside.  Three 
horsemen  approached  him,  riding  in  single  file.  The 
first  brushed  rudely  against  the  less  fortunate  foot- 
man; the  latter  responded  by  striking  the  horse  a 
cut  with  the  twig  in  his  hand.  The  equestrian  there- 
upon turned  in  his  saddle  and  struck  him  a  blow 


292  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

with  his  riding-whip.  The  second  rider  did  like- 
wise, knocking  him  into  the  hedge  of  thorns.  The 
third,  not  to  be  outdone  in  valor,  twitched  the  hat 
from  the  man's  head  and  into  the  middle  of  the 
road.  At  the  end  of  all  this  persecution  the  object 
of  so  much  abuse  did  not  swear,  nor  threaten,  nor 
call  the  police  ;  he  simply  picked  himself  and  his  hat 
up,  and  smiled  feebly  to  himself,  as  with  a  grim 
determination  not  to  let  a  little  thing  like  that  spoil 
his  day's  happiness. 

Chester  spied  a  nocking  together  of  the  people  in 
a  remote  corner  of  the  grounds.  Young  as  he  was, 
he  knew  that  there  is  never  a  crowd  without  an  at- 
tractive nucleus. 

"This  way! "he  cried,  and  our  party,  listlessly 
reckless  now  concerning  their  comings  and  goings, 
followed  him. 

It  was  an  itinerant  dentist,  pulling  teeth  free  of 
charge.  In  this  manner  he  advertised  himself,  and 
when  he  had  gathered  sufficient  people  around  him, 
he  suddenly  changed  his  tactics,  and  sold  them  a 
few  bottles  of  his  nostrum  before  they"  could  help 
themselves. 

He  was  standing  in  a  handsome  cushioned  car- 
riage, drawn  by  four  gray  horses.  Upon  the  foot- 
man's perch  stood  a  tinselled  assistant,  with  a  feather 
in  his  cap.  He  constituted  the  orchestra,  and  turned 
the  crank  of  a  hand-organ  as  his  master  plied  the 
forceps.  The  latter  was  a  man  of  superior  appear- 
ance, characterized  by  that  courtly  and  self-possessed 
bearing  which  comes  from  years  of  intercourse  with 
the  world,  and  which  is  seen  to  such  perfection  in 


VANITY  FAIR.  293 


the  tin  peddler  and  the  book  agent.  Indeed,  there 
are  dwellers  in  the  baronial  halls  that  I  wot  of,  who 
might  envy  the  prestance  of  this  peripatetic  tooth- 
puller. 

He  had  a  happy  word  for  every  occasion,  and 
could  make  a  man  laugh  while  plucking  his  molars 
up  by  the  roots.  His  shirt-front  was  ruffled,  and  for 
a  neck-cloth  he  wore  a  heavy  golden  chain,  thrown 
into  a  tangled  tie.  Taking  into  account  also  the 
elegance  of  the  chair  to  which  he  invited  his  patients, 
the  strains  of  music  with  which  he  made  them  for- 
get all  of  the  lesser  pains  of  life,  and  the  liberality 
of  his  terms,  it  was  no  wonder  that  his  customers  were 
many. 

As  our  friends  approached,  he  was  bending  over 
a  girl  of  perhaps  fifteen  years  of  age.  He  turned, 
exhibited  a  tooth,  and  flung  it  into  the  crowd. 

"  There  must  be  some  jugglery  in  this,"  said  Rob- 
inson. "She  is  an  accomplice  of  his.  Women 
don't  have  their  teeth  pulled  without  screaming." 

"  Do  you  think  that  a  girl  would  scream  on  such 
an  occasion  as  this?"  asked  Stacy.  "No,  indeed. 
It  is  worth  while  to  be  heroic  when  there  are  a  hun- 
dred people  looking  on.  See  how  red  her  cheeks 
are  with  excitement !" 

"And  the  grind-organ,"  added  Chester.  "Think 
of  having  your  teeth  pulled  to  the  heavenly  strains 
of  a  grind-organ  !" 

Again  the  forceps  were  applied.  The  girl's  shoul- 
ders writhed  and  lifted  convulsively  with  the  pain 
which  she  could  not  altogether  conceal,  and  when  she 
withdrew  the  handkerchief  from  her  mouth  there  was 


294  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

a  stain  of  blood  upon  it,  and  her  lips,  half  trem- 
bling, half  smiling,  were  of  a  deeper  red  than  was 
quite  natural. 

The  dentist  motioned  her  out,  stopped  the  organ 
by  a  signal  to  the  musician,  and  sold  a  bottle  of  his 
medicine. 

A  little  child  then  timidly  clambered  into  the  car- 
riage. She  opened  her  eyes  very  wide  to  the  people 
around,  and  then  opened  her  mouth  very  wide  to 
the  dentist.  He  took  a  nickel  coin  from  his  vest 
pocket.  The  coin  and  his  fingers  disappeared  in 
her  mouth.  What  happened  there  nobody  could 
tell,  but  in  another  moment  the  nickel  reappeared, 
balanced  on  the  end  of  his  finger,  and  with  it  the 
offending  tooth.  He  generously  threw  the  money 
back  into  her  mouth,  patted  her  head  and  dismissed 
her.  After  that  exploit  he  sold  a  couple  of  bottles. 

The  next  subject  was  a  man.  A  subtle  smile 
played  under  the  dentist's  gray  moustache.  He 
leaned  over  to  the  people  outside  and  borrowed  an 
umbrella,  carefully  brushing  the  sand  off  its  ferrule. 
Then  he  looked  at  his  victim  and  laughed,  and,  turn- 
ing to  the  spectators,  he  laughed  still  more ;  but  the 
victim  himself  never  so  much  as  smiled.  The 
dentist  inserted  the  end  of  the  umbrella  into  the 
man's  mouth,  and  made  a  feint  as  if  he  were  about 
to  spread  it,  whereat  there  was  more  merriment  all 
around,  the  subject  excepted. 

After  these  few  indications  of  a  playful  spirit  the 
operator  turned  to  business,  and,  putting  the  umbrella 
under  the  snag,  he  used  it  as  a  lever  and  a  pry  to 
uproot  it.  The  sufferer  lifted  his  hands  in  mute 


VANITY  FAIR.  295 


protestation,  but  the  dentist  rudely  struck  them 
down ;  if  he  was  going  to  pull  teeth  for  nothing,  he 
was  not  going  to  have  any  foolishness  and  squeam- 
ishness  about  it. 

A  brisk  market  for  the  bottled  tooth-wash  was  the 
reward  of  this  triumph  of  dentistry. 

Clip,  clip,  went  the  forceps,  as,  one  after  another, 
men,  women,  and  children,  the  Samaritan  despatched 
his  customers,  and,  like  another  Jason,  sowed  their 
teeth  around  him.  But,  man,  woman,  or  child,  and 
whether  one  or  six  teeth  were  pulled,  not  one  of 
them  uttered  a  cry. 

"I  cannot  understand  it,"  said  Robinson.  "It 
is  a  reproach  to  my  countrywomen,  who  raise  the 
roof  with  their  hysterics  whenever  they  have  a  tooth 
filled." 

"I  know  how  it  is,"  Chester  said.  "These 
women  are  not  put  together  in  the  substantial  way 
that  our  folks  are.  They  eat  too  much  candy  and 
doce.  Now  watch  this  one  and  see  if  her  teeth  don't 
come  easy.  I'll  bet  she'd  fall  to  pieces  if  she'd 
sneeze  right  hard." 

The  person  referred  to  was  an  angular  maiden 
lady  about  forty  years  old,  but  still  retaining  some 
of  the  coquettishness  of  youth,  which  she  manifested 
as  she  settled  languishingly  into  the  cushions,  and 
simpered  under  the  united  gaze  of  a  couple  of  hundred 
eyes,  the  handsome  operator's  included.  In  his 
dealings  with  her  this  dissimulating  Janus  assumed 
two  phases  and  faces,  one  of  which  he  turned  toward 
her  and  the  other  toward  the  populace.  As  he 
chucked  her  under  the  chin  and  touched  her  faded 


296  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

lips,  and  gazed  tenderly  into  her  mouth,  she  felt, 
poor  creature,  that  she  had  not  been  so  well  treated 
since  her  sweetheart  ran  off  with  another  girl,  some 
seventeen  years  ago  last  May.  Then,  facing  his 
auditors,  a  droll  twinkle  beamed  in  the  dentist's 
eyes,  and,  opening  his  mouth,  he  rolled  up  his 
sleeves  and  pointed  therein  with  an  expression  of  the 
most  absolute  amazement. 

Chester  acted  as  interpreter  to  the  pantomime. 

"  He  says  he  can  see  —  " 

"Ches-te/1/"  interrupted  Stacy— 

Again  the  dentist  made  a  reconnoissance,  and  re- 
turned, holding  up  the  wide-spread  fingers  of  both 
hands. 

"He  says  her  jaws  are  as  full  of  snags  as  the 
Mississippi  River  itself." 

The  dentist  inserted  a  couple  of  fingers,  plucked 
out  a  tooth  as  easily  as  Jack  Horner  with  his  plum, 
and  flipped  it  out  upon  the  ground. 

"  Um,"  said  he,  in  a  matter-of-course  way. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?  It  wouldn't  take  much 
of  an  earthquake  to  shake  her  to  pieces." 

Then  the  forceps  were  used. 

"Douaf" 

"This  begins  to  look  like  business." 


"I  didn't  think  she  had  so  many  teeth  in  her 
head." 

"Quatro!" 

"  Spoon  victuals  will  have  to  be  her  portion." 

"  Cmco!" 

"  Save  the  pieces  down  there  !     A  sailor's  sweet- 


VANITY  FAIR.  297 


hearts  aren't  scattered  half  so  widely  as  this  woman 
will  be." 


"Won't  she  have  a  lively  time  getting  together 
when  Gabriel  comes  ?  " 


"If  I'm  indicted  for  murder,  you'll  bear  witness 
that  she  told  me  to!" 


"If  there  are  many  more  I'll  take  her  head  off 
and  be  done  with  it." 


The  exhausted  operator  held  up  his  hands  in  dis- 
may, and  his  toothless  subject  minced  down  the 
steps  and  was  lost  in  the  crowd  again. 

After  this  entertainment,  wealth  fairly  rolled  into 
the  coffers  of  the  dentist,  and  our  party  wisely  con- 
cluded that,  stay  they  all  day,  they  would  not  see 
an  equal  display  of  dexterity  on  one  hand,  endur- 
ance on  the  other,  and  good  humor  all  around. 

One  by  one  the  bulky  furniture  wagons,  now 
trimmed  with  a  holiday  dress  of  boughs,  bunting, 
and  garlands,  and  filled  with  a  holiday  freight  of 
merry  men  and  women,  rolled  away  from  the  scene. 
In  the  rear  of  each  stood  a  man  discharging  erratic 
rockets,  maliciously  calculated  to  wind  a  squirming 
night  through  the  crowd  and  stir  up  the  people 
there.  Lash  was  given  to  the  six  mules,  and  over 
the  heavy  sand  of  the  road  they  started  on  the  dead 
run,  scattering  the  people  to  the  right  and  left,  graz- 
ing everybody  but  hurting  no  one,  as  if  they  were 
but  a  flock  of  geese. 


298  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

u  Viva  a  Penha!  "  cry  the  inmates  of  the  wagon, 
while  the  man  in  the  rear  fires  the  tail  of  another 
rocket. 

"Viva  a  Penha!"  respond  the  pedestrian  pil- 
grims, hooting  with  laughter  to  see  the  rocket  burst 
in  the  man's  hands,  and  the  joker  hoist  with  his  own 
petard. 

That  evening,  when  the  stars  were  out,  Stacy  sat 
by  the  window,  gazing  into  the  sky  above. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Robinson,  approaching. 
"Are  you  looking  for  the  satellites  of  Mars?  Are 
you  pining  over  some  lost  love  ?  Are  you  — 

"No,  I  was  thinking.  That  man  must  have  had 
dinner  by  this  time.  I  do  wonder  where  he  put  the 
tooth-pick." 


XXY. 

CHESTER  SPECULATES. 

There  is  not,  however,  a  more  certain  proposition  in  mathe- 
matics, than  that  the  more  tickets  you  adventure  upon,  the  more 
likely  you  are  to  be  a  loser.  Adventure  upon  all  the  tickets  in  the 
lottery,  and  you  lose  for  certain  ;  and  the  greater  the  number  of 
your  tickets,  the  nearer  you  approach  to  this  certainty.  —  ADAM 
SMITH. 


was  reading  the  morning  paper,  un- 
derstanding  some  words,  guessing  at  the  mean- 
ing of  others,  and  filling  in  the  intervals  from  his 
imagination.  In  this  manner  he  managed  to  keep 
posted  on  the  movements  of  the  vessels  in  and  out 
of  port,  the  amusements  at  the  theatres,  and  the 
progress  of  the  fever,  and  also  got  an  inkling  of  the 
meaning  of  the  scanty  three-line  foreign  telegrams 
and  the  items  of  news  from  the  United  States. 

One  morning  he  was  worrying  his  way  through 
the  advertising  page,  reading  of  escaped  slaves,  new 
polkas,  and  wonderful  medicines.  His  finger  finally 
stopped  on  a  piece  of  poetry  which  was  ignominiously 
placed  among  the  prosaic  announcements  of  some 
false  hair  and  cod-liver  oil.  He  divined  its  general 
import,  but  yearned  for  details,  as  it  was  a  subject 
in  which  he  was  interested.  With  his  finger  still  on 
the  spot,  he  came  to  Robinson  for  assistance. 
4  'Translate  that,  please,  will  you,  Rob  ?" 
"That,"  said  Robinson,  "is  an  advertisement  of 


300  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

the  Kiosque  of  the  Black  Captain,  at  which,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  usual  commodities  of  coffee,  codfish, 
and  cigarettes,  you  can  also  purchase  tickets  for  the 
approaching  lottery  with  every  prospect  of  success. 
Or,  in  the  words  of  the  poetical  proprietor, — 

'  Advance,  my  gallant  warriors, 
With  cash  and  without  fear; 
The  biggest  prizes  are  yours 
Who  get  your  tickets  here.' 

And  so  on  through  a  dozen  of  stanzas  of  seductive 
promise.  I  have  noticed  this  fellow's  productions 
before.  He  is  a  very  prolific  poet,  and  on  the  morn- 
ing after  the  drawing  you  will  see  him  come  out  in 
another  jubilation,  a  qfuarter  of  a  column  long,  in 
which  he  announces  the  success  of  the  tickets  which 
have  passed  through  his  lucky  hands;  already  he  has 
got  such  a  reputation  for  luck  that  the  people  would 
rather  have  a  ticket  bought  of  hirn  than  one  blessed 
by  a  priest.  But,  shades  of  Shakespeare  !  how  these 
Brazilians  do  run  to  poetry  !  Why  is  it,  I  wonder  ?" 

"Perhaps,"  the  Naturalist  replied,  "it  is  in  the 
language  and  its  word  terminations,  which  offer 
superior  facilities  for  rhythmical  and  metrical  con- 
struction. But  it  is  not  so  much  the  flesh  and  blood 
of  true  poetry  as  it  is  the  dry  bones  of  a  lifeless 
rhyme,  which,  although  it  is  pleasant  to  the  ear, 
fails  to  stir  the  heart.  Rhymesters  are  as  abundant 
here  as  in  a  ladies'  seminary  of  the  last  generation, 
but  poets  are  rare." 

"You  forget  Goncalves  Bias,"  said  Stacy,  de- 
fending her  favorite. 

"Yes,  there  was  Gongalves  Dias.    But  sometimes 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  301 

even  he,  following  the  fashion  of  his  country,  re- 
lapses into  the  maudlin  gush  of  sighs  and  tears, 
which  is  the  first  stage  of  poetical  development;  it 
seems  to  come  as  natural  for  the  young  poet  to  weep 
as  it  does  for  the  young  infant.  The  fate  of  Gon§alves 
Dias  was  tragically  poetical  in  itself,  and  that  per- 
haps adds  to  his  reputation.  He  was  shipwrecked  and 
drowned  on  his  native  shore  as  he  was  returning 
from  a  foreign  land.  And  then  the  people,  hearing 
of  his  death,  remembered  the  longing  words  of  his 
'Song  of  Exile,'  written  in  Coimbra." 

uOh,  I  know  it,"  said  Stacy.  "I  have  translated 
it. 

"  'And  now,  God  grant  I  may  not  die 

Except  in  fair  Brazil,  among 
The  sweets  of  home,  which  often  I 

In  exile  think  of  as  I  long 
To  see  the  palm-trees  kiss  the  sky, 

And  hear  the  sabia's  sweet  song.' 

u  That's  the  last  stanza.  It's  the  best  I  could  do 
for  it,"  she  added,  apologetically.  "  Some  day  I  will 
translate  them  all, —  'Green  Eyes,'  'The  Maiden 
and  the  Shell, '  '  Leave  Me  Not, '  and  all  of  his  pretty 
verses  of  society." 

u  Not  forgetting  'Maraba,'  '  Y-juca-pyrama,'  and 
his  other  American  poems,"  said  the  Naturalist. 
"You  must  not  forget  them  by  any  means,  for  they 
are  his  greatest  glory.  He  seems  to  have  felt  that 
it  was  his  mission  to  stand  between  as  and  the  old 
Indian  tribes  of  this  country,  of  whom  we  are  so 
ignorant,  and  sing  their  songs  of  fortitude  and 
bravery  over  again  in  language  intelligible  to  us. 
It  is  for  this  that  the  world  at  large  owes  him  its 


302  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

gratitude,  and  that  Brazil  honors  him  as  one  of  the 
founders  of  its  national  literature." 

"I  think  any  country  ought  to  be  proud  of  a  poet 
like  him.  He  is  greatly  revered  here,  is  he  not  ?" 

"Well,  yes,  after  a  fashion.  That  is,  they've  put 
up  a  statue  of  him  somewhere.  They've  named  a 
street  after  him  in  Rio,  and  at  the  last  bull-fight  they 
passed  around  the  hat  and  collected  a  few  nickels 
for  the  support  of  his  aged  mother." 

"  Shameful,  that  the  mother  of  such  a  son  should 
depend  on  the  public  charity  !"  cried  Stacy,  in  indig- 
nation. "I  thought  this  Government  was  paternal, 
and  made  a  practice  of  fostering  literature  and  the 
arts." 

"  What  can  be  done  ?  There  are  so  many  younger 
and  abler  persons  squabbling  for  the  Government 
clerkships  and  pensions,  that  a  feeble  old  woman 
doesn't  stand  much  show." 

"I  am  afraid  I  can't  translate  those  Indian  poems," 
said  Stacy,  discouraged,  as  she  turned  over  the 
leaves  of  the  book.  "Their  melody  is  too  martial 
for  me.  There  is  too  much  of  the  clang  of  barbaric 
arms  and  instruments  there.  My  poor  school-girl's 
vocabulary  is  incompetent  to  interpret  the  sounds  of 
the  janubia  and  the  murmur  e.  Mr.  Robinson, 
won't  you  help  ine  ?" 

"No,  I  thank  you  kindly  for  the  honor.  No 
translations  for  me.  It  is  hard  enough  to  write 
poetry  of  your  own,  where  subject  and  verse  are  free, 
and  where  you  have  the  whole  world,  and  the  rhym- 
ing dictionary  in  the  bargain,  to  choose  from.  But 
when  you  are  restricted  on  one  hand  to  the  necessity 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  303 

of  following  a  certain  line  of  thought,  and,  on  the 
other,  of  compelling  this  thought  to  occupy  the 
Procrustean  bed  of  another  man's  metre,  the  re- 
straint becomes  irksome.  My  Pegasus  is  like  those 
other  horses  which  they  put  on  the  tops  of  barns  for 
weather-vanes  —  it  must  be  free  to  turn  with  every 
change  of  the  wind  ;  and  the  poet's  afflatus  is  a  fickle 
and  inconstant  breeze." 

Robinson  resumed  his  consideration  of  the  paper 
which  Chester  had  put  into  his  hands. 

"I've  struck  it  now,"  he  continued  at  last. 
4 'Here's  a  piece  of  purely  sentimental  slops,  all 
about  a  broken  heart  and  a  wild  despair,  printed  in 
the  advertising  columns.  Of  course  its  author  must 
have  paid  for  its  insertion  at  the  regular  rates.  Is 
it  asinine  conceit  or  the  audacity  of  genius,  I  won- 
der, which  leads  a  man  to  pay  for  the  publication  of 
his  verses  among  the  sordid  announcements  of  pills 
and  pocket  handkerchiefs?  And  is  it  modesty  or 
moral  cowardice  which  restrains  even  the  most  con- 
fident of  our  young  poets  at  home  from  doing  more 
than  to  express  a  shamefaced  hope  that  their  verses 
may  be  found  worthy  of  publication  ?" 

"Look  in  the  page  of  'By  Request,'  if  you  want 
to  see  poetry  of  this  order,"  advised  the  Naturalist. 

"  Yes,  here  it  is,  graspings  after  the  infinite, 
mockery  of  the  prime  minister,  and  adoration  of 
old  Suzanne,  of  the  Alcazar.  I  don't  see  anything 
on  the  subject  of  'Spring'  or  'Beautiful  Snow,1 
however." 

"No,  that  is  an  infliction  spared  to  this  land  of 
perpetual  summer." 


304:  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Long  before  the  end  of  this  conversation,  which 
had  been  initiated  by  Chester,  that  mercurial  boy  was 
on  the  go  again.  With  Bemvindo  for  a  companion, 
he  was  taking  a  walk,  and  the  magnet  does  not 
point  toward  the  pole  more  steadily  than  his  steps 
and  thoughts  tended  to  the  Kiosque  of  the  Black 
Captain. 

This  Kiosque,  like  all  of  them,  was  a  little  muti- 
lated sentry-box  of  an  affair,  which,  crowded  as  it 
was  with  articles  of  trade,  fitted  like  a  strait-jacket 
to  its  proprietor,  who  had  barely  room  to  turn 
around  in  the  centre.  To  swing  a  cat  there  would 
have  been  impossible,  but  that  did  not  matter  to 
this  contented  little  man,  who  had  no  cats  to  swing  ; 
he  could  deal  out  his  coffee,  smoke  his  cigarettes, 
concoct  his  poetry,  and  sell  his  lottery-tickets  there, 
and  that  was  employment  enough  for  him,  especially 
as  he  was  doing  a  rushing  business  in  the  latter  arti- 
cle, since  his  establishment  had  achieved  its  reputa- 
tion for  luck. 

As  allurements  to  the  hesitating  buyer,  one  face  of 
the  Kiosque  was  painted  with  the  gaudy  picture  of 
Fortuna,  who  showered  blessings  in  the  shape  of 
lottery-tickets  upon  the  waiting  world  at  her  feet ; 
and  upon  others  were  the  figures  of  the  prizes  hith- 
erto drawn  through  this  favored  agency.  These 
numbers  were  well  displayed  and  were  calculated  to 
loosen  the  purse-strings  of  the  most  miserly  or  pru- 
dent. 

io.ooo$ooo, 

20.0OO$OOO, 

so  the  prizes  read,  being  drawn  out  to  that  ultimate 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  305 

and  imaginary  Brazilian  coin,  the  real^  which  is 
equal  in  value  to  one-half  of  a  mill.  The  working 
men  and  the  beggars  gazed  wistfully  at  these  figures 
as  they  passed,  and  fell  to  making  plans  as  to  what 
they  would  do  with  all  of  that  money  when  they 
should  get  it,  as  get  it  some  day  they  certainly 
would.  Though  they  might  have  doubts  concerning 
the  heavenly  inheritance  which,  as  the  priest  said, 
awaited  them,  yet  they  were  confident  that,  if  they 
only  lived  long  enough  and  invested  often  enough, 
the  grand  prize  in  the  lottery  would  not  fail  them. 

"What  do  you  think  of  these  lotteries,  any 
way?"  asked  Chester  in  a  casual  way  of  Bemvindo,  as 
they  stood  before  the  Kiosque  of  the  Black  Captain. 

You  might  as  well  ask  a  lover  his  opinion  of  his 
sweetheart  as  to  ask  a  Brazilian  what  he  thinks  of 
the  lottery,  and  Bemvindo  was  no  exception  to  this 
rule.  His  judgment,  though  of  value  in  most 
things,  was  a  little  biased  on  this  subject. 

"Oh,  firs'  class!"  he  replied,  with  ardor.  "I 
like- a  them  ver'  much.  You  get  reech  ver'  easy." 

"Did  you  ever  buy  any  tickets?" 

"Ver'  man'  times.  Every  month  when  Mr. 
Kingson  he  pay  me." 

"Did  you  ever  make  anything?"  continued  the 
practical  Chester. 

"No-o,"  reluctantly  and  slowly;  then  eagerly 
and  in  explanation,  "but  I  deed  not  buy  ze  right 
numbers. " 

"  But  how  do  you  tell  the  right  numbers  ?" 

"You  get  them  at  ze  lucky  kiosque ;  thees  ees 
the  lucky  kiosque." 


306  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"I  say,  Bemvindo,  I'll  tell  you  something.  I've 
got  twenty  milreis.  Father  gave  it  to  me  on  my 
birthday,  so  I  could  get  some  photographs  and  things 
to  take  home  with  me.  Do  you  think  I'd  better  buy 
a  ticket  with  it  ?" 

Of  course  Bemvindo  thought  so.  It  would  be 
foolishness  itself  to  waste  twenty  milreis  for  photo- 
graphs and  things  when  there  were  lottery-tickets  for 
sale.  Why,  with  that  twenty  thousand  milreis,— 
and  he  pointed  to  the  figures  on  the  board, —  one 
could  buy  almost  all  the  photographs  and  things  in 
the  world,  and  still  have  enough  money  left  to  get 
some  more  lottery-tickets. 

'  "  But  if  I  don't  get  the  twenty  contos,"  urged 
Chester,  "  there'll  be  the  mischief  to  pay.  The 
folks  will  laugh  at  me,  and  maybe  father'll  do  some- 
thing more  than  laugh.  Sometimes  he  does." 

Bemvindo  was  astonished  and  almost  vexed  to 
hear  such  boyish  reasoning.  Was  not  somebody 
bound  to  draw  the  grand  prize,  and  wasn't  Chester 
just  as  likely  to  get  it  as  any  one  ?  Then  the  folks 
would  laugh,  indeed,  when  Chester  would  send  all 
of  them  fine  presents  —  thousand-dollar  diamonds, 
tickets  to  Paris,  and  so  on.  However,  nothing  ven- 
ture, nothing  have.  He  had  thought  the  Americans 
were  an  enterprising  people,  and  yet  here  was  one 
who  had  twenty  milreis  and  was  going  to  throw  it 
away  for  photographs  and  things. 

At  this  moment  an  old  woman,  evidently  of  the 
poorest  classes  in  life,  approached  the  kiosque,  and, 
scraping  her  pockets  for  money  she  accumulated 
enough  for  the  purchase  of  one  of  the  smallest  frac- 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  307 

tions  of  a  ticket  that  were  for  sale.  Then  she  de- 
parted, a  tranquil  smile  on  her  face  and  a  well-spring 
of  joy  in  her  heart,  her  happiness  guaranteed  until 
the  drawing  should  take  place. 

4 'You  see,"  said  the  tempter,  Bemvindo,  "  she 
weel  draw  ze  gran1  prize.  She  weel  be  reech  and  go 
to  Petropolis,  and  wear  diamonds  and  feathers. 
Perhaps  she  weel  be  good  and  geef  much  to  ze  poor, 
and  then  ze  Emperor  weel  make  her  marchioness, 
ancl  ze  Pope  weel  make  her  saint.  Oh,  ze  blessed 
lottery!" 

" How  is  this?"  interrupted  Chester.  " There  is 
only  one  grand  prize  and  you  have  promised  it  to 
both  of  us.  We  can't  both  get  the  twenty  contos." 

Bemvindo  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  his  error. 

4 '  You  are  right, "  he  replied.  ' '  She  weel  only 
get  ten  contos.  She  cannot  wear  diamonds  and  go 
to  Petropolis." 

At  last  Chester  yielded,  but  he  surrendered  more 
to  his  own  inclinations  than  to  Bemvindo's  logic,  in 
which  even  his  untutored  mind  could  discover  flaws. 
He  drew  his  cherished  ten  dollars  from  its  hiding- 
place,  and,  like  the  patriotic  boy  that  he  was,  ex- 
changed it  for  ticket  No.  1776,  seeing  in  those  glori- 
ous figures  the  omen  of  success. 

The  fever  of  expectation  now  began.  "  Day  after 
to-morrow  the  wheel  will  turn,"  was  the  placard 
hung  out  in  all  quarters  of  the  city,  and  it  was  neces- 
sary that  he  should  contain  himself  until  that  time, 
and  even  until  the  day  after  that,  when  the  results 
of  the  drawing  would  be  published  in  the  morning 
papers.  Sleepless  were  his  nights  and  restless  his 


308  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

days,  as  he  thought  over  the  thousand  and  one  ways 
in  which  he  would  dispose  of  all  that  money.  Castles 
in  Spain,  do  you  say  ?  Why,  in  all  the  distance  be- 
tween the  Pyrenees  and  the  sea  there  does  not  lie 
area  enough  to  hold  the  shadow-mansions  that  his 
busy  fancy  contrived,  assisted  as  it  was  by  the 
sympathetic  soul  of  Bemvindo.  What  stocks  he 
would  invest  in,  what  parrots  and  monkeys  he  would 
buy,  what  legacies  and  suppers  he  would  give,  what 
juvenile  club-houses  he  would  endow,  these  were  the 
subjects  of  his  thoughts  and  his  dreams.  If  he  saw 
an  unhappy  slave-child  beaten  by  its  master,  he 
would  purchase  its  freedom  ;  if  Kobinson  and  Stacy 
would  get  married  without  any  further  delay,  he 
would  pay  the  expenses  ;  if  he  could  only  find  that 
old  darky  with  the  cocoa-nut  violin,  he  would  have 
the  cherished  instrument  or  know  the  reason  why  ; 
if  the  lure  of  precious  stones  would  have  any  influ- 
ence on  Balbinda's  heart,  her  heart  and  herself 
should  be  his.  He  would  buy  a  yacht,  an  opera- 
house,  or  at  least  a  box  in  one;  a  country-seat  on 
the  Hudson;  a  cottage  at  Manitou;  a  buckskin 
hunting-dress  and  mustang ;  a  Paul  Boynton  swim- 
ming-suit; a.  bushel  of — but  sometimes  the  stlil 
small  voice  of  common-sense  would  whisper  in 
his  ear  that  there  were  five  thousand  nine  hun- 
dred and  ninety- nine  other  tickets  in  the  field, 
and,  considering  that  fact,  there  was  a  consider- 
able possibility  that  his  solitary  No.  1776  might 
not  draw  the  grand  prize.  Then  his  aspirations 
would  droop  like  dampened  flowers,  he  would  re- 
member the  photographs  and  things  that  his  ten 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  309 

dollars  would  have  bought,  and  he  would  be  sad 
until  Bemviiido  came  to  scoff  away  his  doubtings, 
which,  he  said,  were  only  the  evidences  of  an  indi- 
gestion or  the  fatigue  of  sleeplessness. 

When  the  morning  after  the  drawing  came,  Ches- 
ter^was  up  bright  and  early.  He  seized  the  daily 
paper,  and  with  trembling  finger  and  eyes  blear  with 
excitement,  ran  over  the  list  of  successful  numbers. 
Among  them  was  !N"o.  1776,  sure  enough,  but  it  had 
drawn  only  the  paltry  sum — you  could  not  call  it  a 
prize  —  of  twenty  milreis.  It  had  paid  for  itself, 
that  was  all. 

Chester  pretended  to  [some  disgust,  but,  for  all  of 
that,  his  heart  was  light  to  think  he  had  his  ten  dol- 
lars back  again.  He  went  to  confer  with  Bemvindo 
concerning  the  steps  he  should  take  to  secure  his 
money,  which,  like  bread  thrown  upon  the  waters, 
had  returned  to  him  again.  Announcing  the  in- 
glorious result  of  the  drawing,  he  expected  to  see 
the  confident  Brazilian  taken  aback,  but  Bemvindo's 
hope  had  lost  none  of  its  elasticity.  He  bowed  and 
smiled  with  a  knowing  air  as  he  said  : 

"That's  all  right.  It  always  work-a  that  way. 
You  draw  a  leetle,  leetle  prize  first,  and  then  you 
take-a  that  money  and  you  buy  some  more  ticket, 
and  you  get  ze  gran'  prize,  sure.  I  go  with  you  thees 
aft'noon,  and  we  buy  another  ticket  in  ze  nex'  lot- 
tery." 

This  was  a  new  phase  of  affairs.  Chester  had  not 
contemplated  further  investment  in  the  wheel  of 
fortune.  He  had  had  his  excitement,  and,  withal,  his 
lesson,  free  of  cost,  and  he  felt  it  would  be  wise  for 


310  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

him  to  stop.  But  while  prudence  warned  him,  the 
spirit  of  adventure  and  Bernvindo  urged  him  on, 
and,  the  latter  influences  being  in  a  majority,  he 
yielded,  and  again  became  the  possessor  of  one  of 
those  mystical  bits  of  paper  which  sometimes  prove 
a  passport  to  a  palace,  but  more  often,  alas,  to  an 
alms-house. 

In  selecting  the  number  of  this  second  choice, 
Chester  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  carried  away  by 
motives  of  patriotism.  In  his  soul  there  was  a 
higher  interest  than  love  of  country,  and  that  was 
love  of  the  little  maiden  who  lived  in  the  Street  of 
the  Orange  Trees  —  hasten  the  time  when  those  trees 
should  blossom  for  her  and  his  benefit,  upon  their 
wedding  morning. 

In  the  days  of  old,  he  had  read,  it  was  the  brave 
knight's  custom  to  go  into  conflict  with  his  lady's 
name  upon  his  lips  and  her  colors  upon  his  person; 
and  in  modern  times,  so  he  had  heard,  the  fond 
lover,  in  the  last  stage  of  infatuation  and  idiocy, 
sometimes  sits  for  his  picture  with  his  heart  as  full 
of  thoughts  of  his  mistress  as  is  possible  under  the 
photographer's  rigid  discipline,  so  as  to  procure  a 
speaking  likeness  for  his  lady-love.  But  as  Chester 
was  neither  knight  nor  photographer's  victim,  he 
must  choose  other  means  of  showing  his  devotion, 
and  he  did  so  by  selecting  a  lottery  ticket  of  the 
same  number  as  the  house  she  lived  in,  and  thus,  in 
this  roundabout  manner,  dedicating  his  enterprise  to 
her.  Surely,  he  thought,  fortune  will  smile  upon 
this  adventure,  and  Heaven  will  bless  it,  if  Heaven 
ever  stoops  to  interfere  in  matters  of  this  kind. 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  311 

In  the  evening  Chester  was  taking  his  preliminary 
nap  upon  the  sofa  in  the  parlor,  and  the  Colonel,  his 
father,  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  with  that 
martial  stride  which  he  retained,  with  his  sword 
and  a  scar  or  two,  as  a  result  of  the  late  war.  Once 
in  a  while  he  would  stop  to  gaze  upon  his  sleeping 
son  and  in  paternal  pride  to  forecast  the  honorable 
and  prosperous  manhood  which  must  await  the  boy 
who  spends  his  first  ten  dollars  in  works  of  art  and 
education.  In  one  of  these  halts,  in  which  he 
stooped  lower  than  usual,  he  discerned  the  corner 
of  a  peculiar  piece  of  paper,  with  characters  in  red 
print,  which  protruded  from  Chester's  vest-pocket. 
He  drew  it  cautiously  out,  and  bit  his  lip  and  knitted 
his  brow  as  he  read  it,  for  it  was  ticket  No.  157  in  the 
approaching  lottery  for  the  benefit  of  some  dirty 
little  church  in  the  suburbs.  Having  learned  its 
contents,  the  BColonel  replaced  it  and  resumed  his 
walk,  but  stopping  less  often  than  before  to  prog- 
nosticate upon  his  son's  future. 

"Well,  Chester,  my  boy,"  said  he,  when  occa- 
sion offered,  "have  you  invested  your  ten  dollars 
yet  ?  You  ought  to  have  bought  a  whole  album  full 
of  pictures  with  so  much  money.  Of  course  you 
have  views  of  the  Sugar  Loaf  and  Corcovado  and 
the  Alley  of  Palms.  Everybody  gets  them." 

"Well,  no,  not  exactly,"  was  the  stammered  re- 
ply. "  I  mean  yes.  I've  got  one,  but  it's  only  an 
— an  engraving." 

"Let  us  see  it  some  time,  won't  you?  We  want 
to  see  how  much  of  a  connoisseur  you  are." 

"Yes,    some   time,"    Chester   answered.      "But 


312  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

I've  got  to  get  my  French  lesson  now  Que  faille, 
que  tu  allies,  qu'il  aillej  que  nous  allions,  que  vous 
alliez,  quails  aillent.  Oh,  dear,  I  don't  see  what 
they  ever  invented  the  subjunctive  mode  for  !  We 
could  get  along  just  as  well  without  it." 

The  Colonel  sighed  over  the  duplicity  of  his  son, 
and  stepped  into  his  office  to  open  the  letters  of  the 
day. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  next  drawing,  and  on 
the  following  morning  —  the  eventful  morning  upon 
which  the  results  would  be  published  —  Chester, 
with  the  nonchalance  of  the  practised  gambler  that 
he  was  becoming,  overslept  himself,  but  when  he 
did  appear  his  pulse  quickened  very  rapidly  and 
his  eyes  soon  threw  off  the  drowsiness  of  the  night. 

The  family  were  already  at  breakfast.  The  Col- 
onel had  the  Journal  in  his  hands  and  was  going 
through  it  with  a  deliberation  that  was  maddening 
to  Chester,  who  longed  for  it,  but  did  not  dare  to 
say  so.  Finally  he  saw  his  father  turn  to  the 
page  where  stood  the  dense  columns  of  figures  in 
which  some  thousands  of  people  were  to  find  their 
thrilling  news  of  the  day.  Chester  tried  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  this  portion,  but  whichever  way  he 
turned,  and  with  eyes  shut  or  open,  he  could  see 
nothing  but  the  blessed  combination  : 

No.  157,     .     .     .     20. 000$ ooo 

which  danced  before  his  brain. 

"Another  of  these  ruinous  lotteries,"  said  the 
Colonel.  u  They  seem  to  have  one  about  every 
other  day.  I  consider  them  the  one  particular  curse 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  313 

of  this  country.  Think  how  many  homes  have 
been  impoverished  to  buy  all  of  these  tickets,  and 
how  many  thousands  of  people  will  be  heart-sick  to 
find  that  they  have  drawn  nothing  but  blanks  !  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  there's  one  fellow  who  is  prob- 
ably happy  this  morning.  I  wouldn't  mind  owning 
ticket  No.  157  myself,  even  if  it  is  immoral.  But 
the  holder  of  it  is  probably  some  poor  laborer  who 
will  lose  his  head  and  get  drunk  and  squander  his 
ten  thousand  dollars  the  first  year,  and  then  he  will 
be  worse  off  than  ever." 

A  thrill  of  indescribable  ecstasy  shook  Chester 
from  head  to  toes  as  he  heard  these  words.  He  felt 
as  a  man  feels  when  he  is  elected  to  Congress  or 
kissed  by  his  sweetheart  for  the  first  time.  As 
drowning  people  review  all  their  past  history  in  the 
one  brief  moment  that  remains  to  them  of  life,  so 
the  panorama  of  a  rosy  future  floated  past  his  moist- 
_ened  eyes,  and  he  saw  himself  in  company  with  Bal- 
binda,  who  had  orange  blossoms  and  diamonds  on 
her  brow,  seated  in  a  yacht  and  sailing  up  the  placid 
Hudson  to  their  country-house  upon  its  banks,  where 
Robinson  and  Stacy,  now  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robinson, 
were  to  be  their  guests.  If  he  had  been  a  woman 
he  would  have  fainted  under  all  of  this  pressure  of 
an  imagination  running  riot. 

At  last  he  found  voice — the  low  intense  voice  of 
great  emotion  —  and  said : 

"  Oh,  father !  That's  me !  I've  got  it!  I've  got  it !" 

"  What's  that?"  asked  the  Colonel,  in  feigned 
surprise.  u You've  got  what,  Chester?  JSTot  the 
fever,  I  hope." 


314  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"No,  the  prize!  I've  got  the  grand  prize — the 
ten  thousand  dollars !  I've  got  ticket  No.  157 ! 
Here  it  is  !"  And  with  trembling  hands  he  unfolded 
and  displayed  it. 

"Why,  what  are  you  talking  about,  child?  No. 
157  didn't  get  the  prize.  Let's  see.  No.  157  is  a 
blank.  It  was  No.  4613  that  drew  the  ten  thousand 
dollars." 

The  hand  that  writes  this  history  never  put  pen  to 
a  more  painful  task  than  the  reporting  of  the  above 
words.  It  would  have  been  so  easy  to  make  Ches- 
ter a  lucky  Tom  Sawyer  sort  of  a  chap,  finding  his 
pot  of  gold  in  the  shape  of  a  lottery  prize,  that  no 
one  but  the  maker  of  books  can  appreciate  the  temp- 
tation that  has  been  withstood.  Besides,  says  the 
voice  of  froward  impulse,  where  would  be  the  harm, 
since  it  would  have  given  joy  untold  to  the  writer, 
been  perhaps  more  agreeable  to  the  reader,  and 
would  certainly  have  given  greater  satisfaction  to 
Chester  himself?  But  history  is  history,  steadfast 
conscience  replies,  and  whoso  introduces  upon  its 
sacred  pages  the  sweet  amenities  of  fiction  can 
never  hope  to  regain  the  confidence  of  a  betrayed 
public. 

"  Oh,  father  !"  the  boy  cried,  leaning  his  head 
upon  the  table  and  bursting  into  tears,  ' '  You  said 
it  was  No.  157  !" 

The  yacht  sunk  in  the  waters,  the  country-house 
changed  owners,  Balbinda  turned  up  her  pretty  little 
nose  and  said  No,  and  Robinson  and  Stacy  were 
respectively  old  bachelor  and  spinster. 

"What  a  mistake  I  did  make  !"  mused  the  Colo- 


CHESTER  SPECULATES.  315 

nel,  sympathetically.  "It  must  be  that  my  eye- 
sight is  getting  poor.  I'll  have  to  get  a  stronger 
pair  of  glasses,  I  guess.  But  then  there  isn't  so 
much  difference,  after  all,  between  No.  1ST  and  No. 
4613.  Younger  eyes  than  mine  might  have  made 
that  error." 

From  the  pinnacles  of  rejoicing  to  the  depths  of 
despair  was  a  long  way  to  fall,  and  Chester  contin- 
ued to  sob  as  if  his  heart  would  break,  while  Pau- 
line joined  in  silently. 

"Poor  boy!"  said  the  Colonel.  "So  that  is 
where  your  ten  dollars  went  to,  is  it?  It  wasn't 
much  of  an  engraving,  after  all.  If  I  am  any  judge 
of  art  it  was  rather  a  cheap  print.  I'm  sorry  for 
you,  Chester,  but  I'm  glad  you  did  it.  It's  a  good 
lesson  for  you  and  will  be  worth  ten  times  ten  dol- 
lars to  you,  if  you  only  mind  its  teachings.  And, 
Chester,  if  you're  not  above  receiving  a  point  or  two 
from  one  who  is  older  and  wiser  than  you,  and  has 
had  a  little  experience  in  these  things,  I'll  follow 
this  up  with  a  morsel  of  advice.  Never  you  gam- 
ble again,  my  boy,  in  any  kind  of  venture,  whether 
gold  mines,  poker,  or  lotteries.  It  is  the  -sharpers 
who  gain,  and  I  am  thankful  that  you  are  yet  a 
green  simpleton  in  this  art." 

Chester  winced  as  if  this  were  a  doubtful  compli- 
ment for  a  young  man  of  his  years  and  experience 
to  receive. 

4 '  Yes,  you  are  very  fresh  yet,  my  child,  and  while 
you  have  this  freshness  of  honesty  and  uprightness 
about  you,  you  are  almost  sure  to  lose.  Even  if 
you  do  gain  a  few  dollars,  it  will  cost  you  a  blunting 


316  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

of  your  moral  sense  and  a  loss  of  prudence  whose 
value  cannot  be  estimated  in  money." 

"  I'll  never  do  so  again,"  he  sobbed. 

4 'Yes,  you  must  do  so  again,"  said  the  Colonel, 
4 '  but  after  a  peculiar  method  which  I  will  describe  to 
you.  Every  time  a  new  lottery  is  advertised  I  want 
you  to  go  to  one  of  these  kiosques  where  the  tickets 
are  pasted  in  the  windows  and  deliberately  pick  out 
the  number  which  you  would  choose  if  you  were 
going  to  buy.  Don't  allow  yourself  to  vacillate 
from  that  choice,  but  stick  to  it  as  firmly  as  if  you 
had  the  ticket  itself  in  your  pocket.  Write  the 
number  down  in  your  diary  and  keep  there  a  couple 
of  columns  of  gain  and  loss,  putting  in  one  the  cost 
of  the  tickets  and  in  the  other  the  amounts  of  the 
prizes.  Follow  up  this  course  as  long  as  we  stay  in 
Brazil,  and  you  will  have  all  of  the  excitement  of 
this  style  of  gambling  without  any  of  its  penalties." 

Chester  did  so.  Several  times  he  had  his  money 
returned  to  him,  and  once  he  drew  a  prize  of  fifty 
dollars;  but  at  the  end  of  the  season,  when  he  came 
to  balance  his  accounts  of  profit  and  loss,  he  found 
that  he  had  had  the  pleasure  of  losing  an  imaginary 
sum  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  dollars. 


XXYI. 
LET'S  TALK  OF  GRAVES. 

At  Christmas  I  no  more  desire  a  rose 

Than  wish  a  snow  in  May's  new-fangled  mirth ; 

But  like  of  each  thing  that  in  season  grows. 

— SHAKESPEARE. 

NOVEMBER,  the  last  month  of  spring,  waned 
into  the  early  summer  of  December.  The  sun 
came  on  in  its  steady  advance,  reached  its  southern 
solstice,  appeared  to  hang  there  in  the  zenith  of  Rio 
for  a  day  or  two,  and  then  retraced  its  course  toward 
the  wintry  north,  looking  back,  however,  with  a  sul- 
len and  baleful  eye,  parching  the  streams  of  life  and 
developing  the  germs  of  pestilence. 

Under  such  depressing  circumstances,  what  could 
our  friends  do  for  further  entertainment?  All 
sources  of  amusement  were  gone.  The  opera  com- 
pany had  gathered  up  its  robes  and  trophies  and 
departed.  Excursions  and  picnics  were  out  of  date, 
for  even  the  most  fanatic  of  pleasure-seekers  were 
too  sensible  to  leave  the  cool  and  comfortable  shade 
of  their  thick-walled  homes  for  the  rain  of  fire  which 
greeted  them  outside. 

"  There  is  one  thing  left  us,  however,"  proposed 
Robinson.  "  We  can  go  down  to  the  beach  to-mor- 
row morning  and  see  the  bathers.  I'll  swim  you  a 
race  to  Yillegagnon  Island,  Stacy,  if  you'll  promise 

not  to  flirt  with  the  officers  there." 

sir 


318  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"Agreed.     Shall  we  go  before  breakfast?" 

"Before  breakfast?  I  think  so.  Five  o'clock  at 
the  very  latest.  If  we're  not  home  by  seven  the 
sun  will  strike  us,  sure.  At  six  o'clock  the  streets 
are  full  of  ladies  in  dowdy  dresses,  with  long  rolls 
of  moist  hair  down  their  back,  going  home  from  their 
matutinal  plunge." 

"The  idea!  But  don't  people  bathe  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  day  here  ?" 

"  Yes,  with  umbrellas.  But  I  doubt  your  ability 
to  hold  an  umbrella  in  your  teeth  and  make  a  grace- , 
ful  exhibition  of  yourself, —  I  believe  that's  what 
women  bathe  for.  Besides,  a  land-breeze  might 
spring  up,  and,  taking  your  umbrella  for  a  sail, 
might  blow  you  out  to  sea." 

"The  people  are  great  bathers  down  here,  aren't 
they?" 

"Yes,  as  in  all  tropical  countries.  But,  since  it 
is  simply  a  method  of  administering  to  their  personal 
comfort,  they  deserve  no  great  credit  for  it.  The 
Esquimaux,  who  is  obliged  to  use  an  ice-floe  for  a 
dressing-room,  should  have  greater  praise  for  his 
semi-annual  ablution  than  the  tropical  savages  who 
spend  half  of  their  lives  in  the  water." 

Looking  out  of  the  window,  Stacy  saw  the  dense, 
dark,  billowy  green  surface  of  the  mountains  and 
hills  around.  This  intensity  of  verdure  had  an 
ominous  and  unnatural  look  in  her  eyes,  accustomed 
as  they  were  to  the  December  snow-fields  of  her 
native  land.  In  it  she  saw  the  rank  growth  of  the 
grave-yard  and  the  battle-field  —  life  rioting  upon 
death.  Though  the  forests  were  green  at  the  top, 


LETS  TALK  OF  GRAVES.  319 

their  roots  sprang  from  decay,  and  in  that  decay 
were  the  seeds  of  fever  and  death.  .She  feared  for 
the  safety  of  their  household. 

"  Henry,"  she  asked,  "what  is  that  old  proverb 
about  a  green  Christmas  ?  I  can't  help  think  about 
it.  I  dream  about  it  nights." 

"  'A  green  Christmas  makes  a  fat  church-yard.' 
Cheerful  prospect  for  us,  isn't  it?  " 

"And  is  it  true  that  the  fever  is  spreading?" 
"  You  can  almost  taste  it  in  the  air." 
"Did  you  go  to  that  funeral  yesterday?     What 
was  his  name?" 

"Arnold's?  I  did.  Poor  boy,  he'll  never  see  the 
pleasant  slopes  of  the  Connecticut  Valley  again." 
"Is  it  true  that  there  weren't  any  ladies  there?" 
"You  artless  girl!  You  might  as  well  ask  if 
women  are  admitted  to  the  clubs  down  here.  Why, 
his  own  mother  wouldn't  have  been  permitted  the  sad 
satisfaction  of  accompanying  him  on  this  excursion. 
!Nb,  it  was  strictly  an  affair  of  the  sterner  sex,  who  ar- 
rived at  the  cemetery  by  the  street-cars,  and  smoked 
and  talked  business  and  politics  while  awaiting  the 
appointed  hour  for  the  final  rites.  One  of  these 
mourners  got  restless  in  the  hot  sun  and  demanded 
impatiently  why  they  didn't  hurry  up  and  put  the 
box  into  the  hole.  I  must  confess  that  that  remark 
shocked  even  me,  but  then  I  haven't  been  here  long 
enough  to  get  acclimated.  When  the  time  came, 
the  coffin  was  lowered,  the  last  words  were  said,  and 
then  each  of  us,  in  turn,  took  a  little  scoop  and 
threw  in  a  handful  of  earth.  To  me  that  was  the 
only  pathetic  part  of  the  ceremony." 


320  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  '  Oh  !  Schwer  istfs,  in  der  J^remde  sterben  un- 
'beweintj  "  quoted  Stacy,  sadly. 

"  So  says  the  poet,"  replied  Robinson;  " but  no 
poet  can  realize  liow  hard  it  is  to  die  unwept  in 
foreign  lands  until  he  tries  it  down  here  in  Brazil. 
Why,  the  authorities  won't  even  let  you  rest  \vithin 
the  sanctified  area  of  the  cemetery,  but  consign  you 
to  the  common  ground  where  sleep  the  Jews,  here- 
tics, suicides,  and  other  outcasts.  Nor  do  they  give 
you  that  little  grave,  but  so  great  is  the  demand  for 
burial  space  down  here  that,  after  an  occupancy  of 
a  few  years,  the  helpless  tenant  is  taken  up  and 
thrown  into  the  general  charnel-heap." 

"  Oh,  don't  tell  any  more,"  begged  Stacy.  "  I  do 
hope  that  I  won't  die  down  here." 

uAnd  I,  too.  I  am  particularly  anxious  that  I 
shall  not  die  here,  because  you  couldn't  go  to  my 
funeral  if  I  did,  and  I  would  not  for  anything  deprive 
you  of  the  pleasure  of  going  to  my  funeral." 

"It  will  give  me  unlimited  pleasure,"  she  mur- 
mured, in  polite  acknowledgment. 

"I  don't  believe  in  this  thing  of  women  going  to 
funerals,"  said  Chester.  u  They  ought  to  say  good- 
bye at  home.  They  take  on  so  that  it  makes  us  feel 
bad.  Why,  sometimes  I've  almost  cried  myself." 

"I  know  it's  uncomfortable,"  replied  Robinson, 
uto  hear  the  women  sob  when  the  first  clods  rattle 
down,  but  a  little  of  that  discipline  will  not  make 
our  hearts  any  too  tender.  And  if  we  do  chime  in 
a  little  with  them  sometimes,  we're  none  the  less 
manly  for  it.  A  man  is  never  degraded  by  the  pres- 
ence of  a  woman  in  grief,  Chester,  no  matter  who  or 


LETS  TALK  OF  GRAVES.  321 

what  that  woman  is.  Weak  though  she  is  said  to 
be,  woman's  influence  is  a  power,  a  restraint,  and  a 
blessing.  She  keeps  us  in  decorum  at  the  funeral, 
just  as  she  refines  and  civilizes  us  in  the  college 
class  and  at  the  social  dinner.  They  stay  at  home 
here  ;  and  just  notice  the  result.  As  far  as  respect 
and  solemnity  are  concerned,  a  fellow  might  as  well 
be  an  ox  going  to  a  barbecue  as  a  dead  man 
on  his  way  to  Caju.  I  sincerely  hope  that  I  shall 
die  before  the  system  of  bachelor  funerals  comes  in 
fashion  at  home.  I  hope  that  when  my  time  shall 
come,  there  will  be  at  least  one  woman  who  will 
look  into  my  grave  and  feel  her  eyes  grow  moist  as 
she  thinks,  '  Poor  fellow  !  He  had  some  good  qual- 
ities. I  loved  him.'  ' 

Stacy  smiled  to  herself. 

"You  say  'at  least  one  woman,'"  she  observed. 
"Does  it  occur  to  you  that  it  would  be  hardly  con- 
ventional for  more  than  one  woman  to  indulge  in 
all  of  those  thoughts,  since  you  are  not  a  Mormon, 
and,  I  trust,  not  a  deceiver  ?  But  I  was  going  to 
remark  that  if  such  a  display  of  feminine  weakness 
is  essential  to  your  future  happiness,  it  is  hardly 
safe  for  you  to  die  at  present.  I  would  recommend 
you  to  seek  a  healthier  climate  immediately." 

"Let's  go  to  Petropolis,"  cried  Chester,  bound- 
ing from  his  seat,  and  finding  here  an  opportunity  to 
advocate  a  long-cherished  scheme  of  his. 

About  this  Petropolis :     The  world  at  large  had 

recently  two  very  distinguished  guests.     They  were 

husband   and  wife,   the   Emperor  and  Empress  of 

Brazil.    Their  names  are  Peter  and  Theresa.    Hence 

21 


322  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

the  origin  of  these  two  other  names,  Petropolis  and 
Theresopolis,  which  a  loyal  people  have  given  to 
the  two  prettiest  of  all  Brazilian  villages. 

They  lie  just  beyond  the  summit  of  the  Organ 
Mountains,  which  cut  the  sky  like  a  jagged  wall,  to 
the  north  of  Rio,  in  the  upland  region  of  cloudy 
days  and  cool  nights,  where  the  mosquito  and  the 
yellow  fever  never  come.  Thither  the  thoughts  of 
the  people  of  the  great  city  tend  when  the  summer 
comes  on.  Thither,  to  the  summer  court  of  Petrop- 
olis, the  imperial  household  move  in  the  early  No- 
vember. The  Envoys  Extraordinary  and  Ministers 
Plenipotentiary  take  up  their  great  seals  of  office 
and  follow.  The  wealthy  merchants  and  doctors 
despatch  their  wives  and  daughters  to  this  resort, 
for,  as  it  is  well  known,  nobody  that  is  anybody 
remains  in  Rio  during  the  unfashionable  and  un- 
healthy season. 

It  may  be  asked,  therefore,  why  it  was  that  the 
Smith  Family  and  Robinson  saw  the  Christmas  time, 
with  its  passion-plays  at  the  theatres,  come  and  go ; 
saw  the  New  Year's  Day,  gaudy  with  its  wealth  of 
flowers,  dawn  upon  them ;  saw  the  fever-list  in  the 
morning  papers  increase  with  an  alarming  growth ; 
saw  the  thermometer  rise  day  by  day  as  if  by  some 
regular  law,  and  yet  they  remained.  The  same 
thought  had  occurred  to  Chester  more  than  once, 
and  he  had  repeatedly  urged  a  change  of  base. 

"  Children,"  again  he  said  to  Robinson  and  Stacy, 
"  would  you  like  to  go  to  the  mountains  with  me  ?" 

"Papa  can't  go  yet,"  replied  his  sister.  "Will 
this  horrid  'business'  never  end,  I  wonder?" 


LETS  TALK  OF  GRAVES.  323 

"Doubtful,"  replied  the  boy.  "I'm  afraid  we'll 
have  to  leave  him." 

"Oh,  but  that  would  not  be  dutiful,  nor  pleasant, 
either,"  pleaded  Stacy. 

"  I'll  fix  that.  If  he  orders  us  to  go  I  guess  we'll 
have  to  go,  however  great  a  sacrifice  it  may  be.  I'm 
going  for  the  necessary  orders." 

Chester  lounged  into  his  father's  presence  with 
an  air  of  the  greatest  exhaustion.  The  great  drops 
of  perspiration  stood  out  upon  his  forehead,  for  he 
had  just  been  going  through  a  severe  course  of  gym- 
nastics in  his  own  room,  not  for  pleasure  but  for 
effect.  His  collar  was  wilted  and  the  moisture 
appeared  here  and  there  through  his  garments,  for 
he  had  not  neglected  the  precaution  of  pouring  a 
pint  of  water  down  his  neck,  at  great  expense  to  his 
comfort  and  with  a  great  shock  to  his  nervous  system. 

He  fell  into  a  chair  in  that  spread-eagle  position 
indicative  of  August  weather,  in  which  no  one  limb 
is  allowed  to  touch  the  other.  Then  he  removed  a 
large  green  leaf  from  his  hat,  fanned  himself  lan- 
guidly, and  said: 

"It's  awful  hot!" 

"Why,  my  boy,  you've  been  running.  It's  not 
warm  to-day.  See  how  cool  and  comfortable  I  am." 

"Can't  help  it,  pa.  You  must  be  a  salama- 
gander  —  " 

"Eh!     What's  that?" 

"What  lives  in  the  fire,  you  know,  and  never 
burns  up  —  if  you  can  keep  cool  such  a  day  as  this. 
It  must  be  a  hundred  and  over." 


324  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"K"o,  no;  it's  only  eighty-something  to-day. 
Just  step  into  the  office  and  see." 

It  was  only  eighty-seven,  but,  by  the  patient 
application  of  a  few  burning  matches  to  the  bulb  of 
the  thermometer,  the  ingenious  boy  sent  the  col- 
umn of  mercury  up  to  a  hundred  and  five  degrees. 

"There,  pa,  what  did  I  tell  you  ?"  he  cried  out 
in  triumph.  "  Now  come  and  see  for  yourself!" 

The  old  gentleman  looked,  and  was  astonished  ; 
adjusted  his  spectacles,  and  looked  again.  Fortu- 
nately he  did  not  look  too  long,  as  the  mercurial 
thread  was  rapidly  falling  as  it  cooled  off.  "I  had 
110  idea  it  was  so  hot,"  he  said. 

uHot !  Hot  is  no  name  for  it.  Why,  they  say 
that  in  February  there's  only  the  thickness  of  a 
sheet  of  paper  between  this  town  and  the  next  place 
below.  As  I  came  past  the  Passeio  Publico  to-day 
I  saw  the  ostrich  with  its  tongue  out  and  its  wings 
held  off  at  arm's  length,  just  like  an  old  hen  on  the 
fifteenth  of  August.  Everybody  left  the  city  long 
ago.  The  yellow  fever  is  getting  awful  bad." 

"I  must  send  you  away  immediately,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

fcCOne  of  the  Portuguese  bull-fighters  died  last 
week,  and  the  fellow  they  shoot  out  of  a  cannon  at 
the  circus,  he's  gone,"  continued  Chester,  following 
up  his  advantage.  "It  is  said  to  be  par-fo'<?-ularly 
bad  on  distinguished  foreigners.  Better  look  out, 
pa." 

uYou  may  go  anywhere  you  please  up  in  the 
mountains.  Ask  Kob  where  the  best  place  is.  I  will 
follow  you  in  a  few  days,  as  soon  as  I  can  get  my 


LETS  TALK  OF  GRAVES.  325 

affairs  in  some  shape.  Suppose  you  try  Theresopolis 
first  and  then  join  me  at  Petropolis." 

Chester  still  persisted. 

' '  Rob  complained  of  a  pain  in  his  back  this  morn- 
ing, and  Stacy  has  a  headache,  and  I  don't  feel  very 
well,  myself.  That's  the  way  the  yellow  fever  always 
begins." 

His  father  was  getting  excited. 

"  You'd  better  go  immediately,  you  three.  Don't 
wait  a  day.  P'line  and  I  will  go  up  to  Santa  Thereza 
hill  to  live.  Its  healthy  up  there.  P'line  can't  go, 
for  we  couldn't  get  along  without  each  other.  She 
will  have  to  keep  Jaquenetta  with  her,  so  Stacy  will 
be  obliged  to  get  along  by  herself." 

Jaquenetta  was  lady's-maid  to  Stacy  and  Pauline. 
Her  real  name  was  Eliza ;  but  Stacy,  having  some 
romantic  ideas  on  the  subject  of  domestic  nomen- 
clature, had  re-christened  her  as  above,  much  to  the 
unoffending  girl's  amazement. 

'  'All  right, "  responded  Chester,  resignedly.  ' '  We 
must  expect  to  have  some  inconveniences  in  this 
life." 

Then  he  went  to  the  parlor  to  announce  the  news. 

"We  are  going  to  start  to-morrow  for  There- 
sopolis. That  is,  I  am  going  to  escort  my  sister 
Stacy,  and  you,  Mr.  Eobinson,  will  accompany  us 
as  an  invited  guest.  Us  four,  no  more.  No,  there's 
only  three,  for  Polly  can't  go  and  Jacky's  got  to 
stay  with  Polly.  So,  Miss  Stacy,  you  will  have  to 
do  your  own  waiting  on." 

"Oh,  I  can't  get  along  alone." 

"Must!     You'll  find  it  easy  enough,  for  we're 


326  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

going  to  rough  it.  ~No  Saratoga  trunks  on  this  trip. 
Its  an  awful  mountain  we  have  to  climb  on  mule- 
back.  Do  you  remember  the  picture  in  our  geog- 
raphy of  the  travellers  crossing  the  Andes,  with 
bottomless  pits  all  around  them  ?  That's  a  fib.  It 
wasn't  the  Andes,  at  all.  It  was  a  picture  of  the 
trail  to  Theresopolis.  So  you  see  we're  reduced  to 
the  stern  necessity  of  allowing  ourselves  only  one 
suit  of  clothes  apiece." 

u  I  won't  go,"  protested  Stacy.  u  Fancy  going  to 
a  summer  resort  in  that  kind  of  style  !" 

"  But  if  you  will  be  a  right  good  girl,  Rob  and  I 
will  fill  our  pockets  with  your  personal  effects,  and 
maybe  we'll  organize  a  pack-train  to  carry  the  rest. 
We  men,  however,  are  going  to  limit  ourselves  to 
our  most  intimate  baggage,  as  the  fastidious  young 
man  said  of  his  shirt-case.  And  if  you'll  be  very, 
very  good,  maybe  we'll  hire  an  Indian  girl  to  look 
after  you ;  that  is,  if  you're  very  good,  and  she's 
very  pretty  and  knows  how  to  tie  a  neck-tie  and 
make  herself  generally  useful." 

This  was  the  programme,  as  arranged  by  that  di- 
plomatic boy,  Chester.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  mor- 
row they  were  out  upon  the  bay  again,  and  again  the 
nose  of  the  steamer  was  pointed  northward  as  on 
that  October  day  when  they  went  to  pay  a  tourist's 
devotion  to  Nossa  Senhora  da  Penha.  There  was  but 
little  breeze  upon  the  water.  The  sun  burned  every- 
thing mercilessly,  the  floor  upon  which  they  trod, 
the  seats  that  were  exposed  to  its  rays,  and  the 
tranquil  blue  waters  of  the  bay,  so  that  even  the 
turbulence  of  the  vessel's  wake,  usually  so  refresh- 


LETS  TALK  OF  GRAVES.  32Y 

ing  to  look  upon,  seemed  like  the  ebullition  of  boil- 
ing water. 

"Come  in  under  the  awning,  Henry,"  called 
Stacy.  "Your  neck  is  scarlet  already." 

He  complied,  and  sitting  down  by  her,  he  wiped 
his  brow  and  sighed. 

"This  must  be  the  January  thaw  that  we  read 
about  in  the  almanacs,"  said  he,  with  a  thoughtful 
air.  "Just  look  back  upon  the  city.  What  an 
Inferno  of  heat,  wickedness,  and  pestilent  exhala- 
tion!" 

"Remember  Lot's  wife." 

"Lot's  wife  looked  back  with  longing.  I  don't. 
That's  where  we  differ." 

"  Better  look  forward  to  the  mountains,  where  we 
are  going.  See  the  clouds  about  the  summits,  how 
cool  and  refreshing  !" 

* '  Yes,  and  how  suggestive  of  damp  and  rheu- 
matism!" 

Far  away  in  the  dim  blue  north  the  shafts  of  the 
Organ  Mountains,  ascending  in  regular  scale  like 
the  pipes  of  an  organ,  were  vexing  the  serene  hori- 
zon with  their  sharp  angles  of  rock,  and  prominent 
among  them  was  that  wonderful  shape  which  the 
people  call  God's  Finger,  which  points  unswervingly 
and  forever  to  the  sky. 


xxvn. 

ROUGHING  IT. 

At  night  such  lodging  in  barns  and  sheds, 
Such  a  hurly-burly  in  country  inns, 
Such  a  clatter  of  tongues  in  empty  heads, 
Such  a  helter-skelter  of  prayers  and  sins. 

— LONGFELLOW. 

rpHE  steamer  puffed  along  lazily,  winding  in  and 
L  out  through  a  little  archipelago,  some  of  whose 
islands  were  scarcely  more  than  gigantic  stone-heaps 
rising  above  the  surface,  while  others  were  green  to 
the  water's  edge.  Thus  they  came  to  Paqueta,  the 
insular  home  of  most  of  the  passengers  on  board. 
Sweeping  into  a  curve  of  the  bay,  they  saw  a  throng 
of  people  awaiting  them  at  the  wharf.  These  lounged 
upon  the  vessel,  some  to  greet  friends  returning 
from  the  city;  others,  the  negroes,  to  carry  off  such 
freight  as  was  destined  to  Paqueta.  There  were, 
perhaps,  a  dozen  parcels  of  this;  at  least  two  dozen 
slaves  came  for  it.  They  stood  in  the  way  of  each 
other,  scratched  their  heads  while  they  tried  to  rec- 
ollect their  masters'  names,  fumbled  in  the  pile  of 
packages  until  the  proper  label  was  found,  gossiped, 
nibbled  at  the  piece  of  came  secca,  and  in  other  ways 
dallied  beyond  all  endurance. 

"They  are  slaves,  poor  creatures!"  said  Stacy. 
uThey  doubtless  earn  all  they  get." 

"That  is,  black  beans  for  dinner  and  a  gunny- 


ROUGHING  IT.  329 


sack  for  an  overcoat,"  added  Robinson,  by  way  of 
illustration.  u  However,  these  fellows  don't  lead  a 
hard  life  of  it.  Living  here  at  court,  they  feel  some 
of  the  effects  of  the  world's  sympathy,  they  know 
that  a  system  of  emancipation  is  in  progress,  and 
that  the  slaveholder's  tools  of  torture  will  soon  be 
laid  on  the  museum  shelf.  So  they  crack  their 
fingers  at  the  crack  of  the  whip,  and  are  idle  with 
impunity.  But  in  that  vast  isolated  region  known 
as  'the  interior,'  it  is  different.  There  the  slaves 
are  literally  worked  and  starved  to  death.  If  an 
able-bodied  man  endures  this  life  for  two  years  after 
his  purchase,  it  is  calculated  that  he  has  paid  for 
himself.  If  he  lasts  longer  than  that,  his  services 
are  so  much  clear  profit  to  the  planter." 

"Ugh!"  shuddered  Chester.  "  Why  don't  they 
kill  their  masters  ?" 

"Yery  frequently  they  do.  It  is  an  ordinary 
occurrence  up  there  for  a  slave  to  shoot  his  Owner 
from  an  ambuscade,  and  thus  revenge  his  wrongs, 
gratify  his  malice,  and  ameliorate  his  condition,  all 
in  one  shot." 

"Better  his  condition  ?     How ?     By  death  ?" 

"No.  Capital  punishment  is  not  practised  in 
Brazil.  The  murderer  is  transported  to  the  penal 
colony  on  the  island  of  Fernando  de  Noronha;  but 
since  the  convict's  work  is  lighter  and  his  fare  is 
better  than  the  slave's,  his  last  state  is  better  than 
the  first.  In  this  ocean  resort  the  slave  sees  a  pre- 
mium for  crime,  and,  in  consequence,  a  man  might 
as  well  be  a  tax-gatherer  in  Ireland  as  an  overseer  in 
Brazil." 


330  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Our  trio  were  the  only  passengers  remaining  when 
they  reached  the  landing  of  Piedade,  where  the  dili- 
gencia  was  in  waiting  to  carry  them  to  the  foot  of 
the  mountain. 

"  We  go  to-night  as  far  as  Barreira,".  said  Robin- 
son. "But  on  our  return  it  will  be  necessary  to 
pass  the  night  here.  Look  out  of  the  window,  Stacy, 
and  see  how  you  like  your  future  quarters." 

She  looked  and  saw  a  solitary  house  whose  white 
wall  was  discolored  by  the  stains  of  the  weather,  and 
whose  windows  were  boarded  up,  all  save  one. 
From  this  the  pane  of  glass  was  gone,  and  the 
vacancy  was  filled  by  a  child's  head,  unkempt  and 
dishevelled. 

"•The  dismal  place!"  moaned  Stacy. 

u  Folks  that  will  travel  must  expect  some  incon- 
veniences," said  Robinson,  philosophically.  "I 
know  a  man  who  stayed  here  once  all  night,  and  was 
rash  enough  to  walk  across  the  floor  barefooted.  He 
told  me  —  and  he  was  a  trustworthy  man,  too  —  that 
no  less  than  six  bichos  de  pe  took  that  occasion  to 
burrow  into  his  toes.  I  merely  recall  this  incident 
now  so  that  we  may  remember  to  sleep  in  our  boots. 
And  as  fort  fleas, —  however,  fleas  are  only  an  inci- 
dental injury,  and  not  worth  consideration." 

"  But  the  advertisement  said  there  was  a  good 
hotel  here." 

"Did  you  ever  know  a  man  to  advertise  a  bad 
hotel  ?" 

' '  It  looks  like  a  stable.  I  would  rather  sit  on  the 
wharf  all  night  than  to  try  to  sleep  there,"  said 
Stacy. 


ROUGHING  IT.  331 


"A  good  suggestion.  I  will  volunteer  to  keep 
tryst  with  you." 

"And  I,  too.    We'll  go  fishing,"  put  in  Chester. 

uAnd  catch  the  malaria,"  said  his  sister. 

"  By  the  way, ' '  said  Eobinson,  < '  the  name  of  this 
place,  Piedade,  means  Piety.  A  pious-looking  com- 
munity this  is !" 

"What  an  idea!"  exclaimed  Stacy.  "Do  tell 
me  why  it  is  that  in  these  Catholic  countries  the 
worst  places  have  the  holiest  names  !  I  have  noticed 
that  wherever  a  town  or  a  street  is  particularly  ill- 
favored  and  disreputable,  it  is  sure  to  bear  the  name 
of  the  brightest  saint  in  the  calendar." 

"Or,"  added  Robinson,  "if  a  person  is  a  par- 
ticular rascal  and  horse-thief,  he  is  named  after  the 
entire  twelve  apostles  and  their  Master.  Why  is 
it?  I  don't  know.  Why  is  it  that  the  dirtiest  her- 
mit has  the  widest  reputation  ?  It  must  be  that  the 
Catholic  people  and  the  Protestants  understand  dif- 
ferently the  expression,  '  the  odor  of  sanctity. ' ' 

The  carriage  rolled  away  with  them.  Piedade  was 
lost  to  sight,  and  the  travellers  applied  themselves  to 
an  inspection  of  their  surroundings.  There  was  noth- 
ing novel  in  the  vehicle  which  conveyed  them.  It 
was  a  hackney  coach,  very  old  and  shaky,  with  up- 
holstering in  an  advanced  state  of  eruption,  and  had 
probably  once  had  its  station  at  some  wharf  or 
depot  in  E"ew  York.  The  front  seat,  which  Chester 
had  fondly  hoped  to  occupy  by  himself,  was  shared 
by  a  portly  negress,  who,  at  the  last  moment,  was 
thrust  in  upon  them.  Chester  was  inclined  to  mur- 
mur, but  Robinson  felt  that  it  would  be  in  vain  to 
protest. 


332  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  There  is  no  prejudice  against  color  in  this  coun- 
try, Chester,  and  we  cannot  judge  of  our  compan- 
ion's social  position  by  the  hue  of  her  face.  Possi- 
bly she  is  a  baroness.  If  not  a  lady  of  distinction, 
why  would  she  be  going  to  a  summer  resort  at  the 
height  of  the  season  ?  " 

"To  cook,"  growled  Chester,  "and  wash  clothes 
for  the  boarders  ;  that's  why." 

It  was  not  probable  that  the  lady  in  question,  even 
though  a  baroness,  had  received  an  English  educa- 
tion, as  the  foregoing  very  personal  remarks  failed 
to  affect  her  visibly.  On  the  contrary,  she  calmly 
loosened  the  draw-string  of  a  green  bag  which  she 
was  carrying,  and,  producing  some  cakes  therefrom, 
proceeded  to  lunch  ;  like  an  experienced  traveller 
in  Brazil,  she  carried  her  rations  with  her.  But 
first  she  politely  offered  of  her  bounty  to  our  friends, 
who  as  politely  declined.  This  action  mollified 
Chester  greatly,  for  he  foresaw  that,  though  her  ac- 
quaintance might  not  be  a  pleasant  one,  it  might 
prove  exceedingly  useful. 

Their  route  lay  through  a  low  country  of  sand, 
swamp,  and  covert,  with  here  and  there  a  melon- 
patch  and  field  of  wind-driven  mandioca  to  break 
the  monotony.  The  roads  were  bad  and  their  ad- 
vance slow  and  tedious. 

"  Whoop  !  Hi !  Ya-ya  !  S-s-s-s-st !  S-st !  "  clam- 
ored the  man  above,  showering  down  a  volley  of 
unmeaning  expletives,  but  never  an  oath.  Then  he 
slapped  the  foot-board  with  the  reins,  and  stamped 
loudly  with  his  foot  while  recovering  breath  for 
another  outburst. 


.    ROUGHING  IT.  333 

' <  Will  this  awful  chorus  never  end?"  wondered 
Stacy. 

"I  fear  not,  only  with  our  journey,"  replied  Rob- 
inson. u  The  Brazilian  Jehu  drives  as  the  Chinese 
warrior  fights :  with  a  great  deal  of  noise  and  but 
little  execution." 

"  Why  are  there  five  mules  in  that  team  ?  "  asked 
Chester.  "  Why  don't  they  make  it  four  or  six,  and 
be  respectable  ?  " 

"My  child,"  replied  Robinson,  "  it  is  to  prevent 
a  tie.  Do  you  not  remark  how  frequently  two  of 
them  want  to  go  one  way  while  other  two  yearn 
for  the  opposite  direction  ?  It  is  then  that  the  fifth 
has  the  casting  vote  and  prevents  a  world  of  embar- 
rassment and  delay." 

These  animals  began  to  stagger  and  sway  with 
weariness  as  they  plodded  along,  but  with  redoubled 
whoop  and  halloo  the  driver  encouraged  them  into 
a  feeble  gallop  as  he  swept  into  the  little  village  of 
Mage.  Then  they  stopped  as  suddenly  as  if  death 
had  overtaken  them,  and  reposed  against  each  other 
while  waiting  to  be  released  from  harness.  Poor 
creatures  !  their  shoulders  and  their  sides  were  lacer- 
ated, so  it  was  no  wonder  that  they  pulled  bias  and 
reluctantly. 

The  colored  woman  munched  another  cracker, 
pressed  her  hand  languidly  to  her  forehead,  and  said : 
"  Oh,  dear  !  "  or  words  to  that  eifect. 

"  She  must  belong  to  good  society,"  said  Robin- 
son.' "  She  has  a  headache." 

With  a  relay  of  fresh  animals,  the  crazy  car- 
riage proceeded  on  its  way,  rattling  and  creaking  as 


334  ROUND  ABOUT 


if  threatening  instant  dissolution.  Night  came  on 
apace,  aided,  perhaps,  by  the  dusky  face  of  the 
Baroness  ;  so  that,  while  yet  there  was  a  glimmer 
of  light  in  the  outside  world,  the  darkness  within 
the  carriage  was  intense.  They  were  ascending  the 
mountain.  This  they  knew  by  the  slant  of  the  vehi- 
cle and  the  difficulty  with  which  the  incumbents  of 
the  front  seats  retained  their  places. 

"Look  out,  Kob!"  warned  Chester.  "If  the 
Baroneza  comes  down  upon  you,  it  will  be  worse 
than  a  land-slide." 

Then  the  wheel  of  the  coach  plunged  into  a  rut, 
there  was  a  rocking  sideways,  and  much  commotion 
and  disturbance  among  the  occupants.  Chester  now 
sang  in  another  strain. 

"Oh,  by  George!  I  won't  stand  this  any  longer. 
This  is  the  third  time  that  she  has  tumbled  square 
into  my  arms.  And  it  isn't  fair,  for  she  weighs 
twice  as  much  as  I  do.  I  believe  she  does  it  on  pur- 
pose. She  didn't  flop  around  that  way  when  it  was 
daylight." 

"  We  must  put  up  with  these  little  annoyances, 
Chester,"  reasoned  Robinson.  "  Why  it  is  that  the 
ruts  seem  deeper  and  their  effects  more  disastrous 
by  dark  than  by  day,  I  do  not  know,  but  it  certainly 
is  so.  Even  Stacy  —  your  reserved  sister  Stacy  — 
who  kept  her  place  with  so  much  aplomb  all  day 
long,  has  been  uncommonly  erratic  and  uncertain  in 
the  last  hour  or  two.  But  I  do  not  murmur.  I  do 
not  complain." 

"But  Stacy  doesn't  weigh  a  ton,"  growled  the 
boy.  "Nor  she  didn't  eat  codfish  and  onions  for 


ROUGHING  IT.  335 


dinner,  even  if  she  isn't  a  baroness.  I  like  Stacy, 
and  I  wish  I  was  a  little  fellow  again,  so  I  could  go 
to  sleep  in  her  arms." 

"Ah,  the  sweet  perquisites  of  childhood!"  said 
Robinson,  enviously. 

u  Shinny  on  your  own  side,  Madam  Baroneza," 
called  out  Chester.  But  his  companion  never  moved 
an  ankle,  which  may  be  accepted  as  positive  proof 
that  she  was  not  cultured  in  the  English  language, 
and  did  not  understand  the  drift  of  the  conversation. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  they  arrived  at  Barreira. 
Around  them  rose  the  dim  shape  of  lofty  mountains. 
At  the  side  of  the  road  stood  a  long  white  house, 
through  whose  open  door  the  light  gleamed  to  wel- 
come them.  Entering,  they  found  themselves  in  a 
dining-room,  in  whose  centre  was  a  table  with  covers 
in  place.  The  apartment  was  low  and  dingy,  with 
benches  for  seats.  Upon  the  wall  was  one  solitary 
Catholic  picture,  representing  man's  rise  and  de- 
cline, from  his  cradle  up  through  successive  stages 
to  the  wedding-day,  the  culminating  point  of  his  life, 
whence  he  descended  to  the  grave. 

This  was  the  other  excellent  hotel  of  which  the 
advertisement  spoke.  The  yawning  proprietor,  in 
shirt-sleeves,  was  waiting.  He  finished  his  yawn 
and  responded  to  their  greeting. 

Could  they  find  apartments  there  for  the  night  ? 

They  could. 

"What  could  he  give  them  for  supper  ? 

He  twisted  his  moustache  and  pondered. 

"Now,  listen,"  said  Robinson.  "He  is  going  to 
propose  a  chicken." 


336  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

But  the  landlord  did  nothing  hastily.  He  scratched 
his  head,  and  deliberated,  as  if  he  had  the  resources 
of  a  king's  butler,  and  the  difficulty  was  what  to 
choose. 

4 '  I  suppose  we  might  kill  a  fowl  for  you, "  he 
said,  at  last. 

"What  did  i  tell  you?"  exclaimed  Robinson  to 
his  companions.  "  The  rascal  knows  that  we  will 
not  wait  for  the  capture  and  cooking  of  a  chicken. 
But,  refusing  that,  we  are  at  his  mercy,  and  must 
take  what  we  can  get." 

"What  else  have  you ?"  asked  Robinson. 

"A  box  of  mortadella^  he  replied  proudly. 

"  Yery  good  ;  we  will  sup  on  that." 

"But  tell  me,  Henry,  what  is  mortadella  f^ 

"Mortadella,  Stacy,  is  an  Italian  preparation,  and 
hence  it  is  a  mystery.  It  is  a  kind  of  sausage,  and 
hence  the  mystery  is  increased  tenfold.  Mortadella 
is  a  thing  to  be  eaten  and  no  questions  asked," 

It  was  brought  on  in  the  half-moon  box  in  which 
it  is  put  up.  From  this,  Robinson  lifted  layer  after 
layer  of  the  laminated  minced-meat,  and  served  his 
friends. 

"Take  it  with  your  bread,"  he  said.  "As  the 
soul  for  a  sandwich,  there  is  nothing  equal  to  a  leaf 
of  mortadella." 

With  this  and  the  wine  and  their  voracious  appe- 
tites, they  did  not  fare  badly. 

But  the  bread  was  soon  exhausted. 

"Another  loaf,"  called  Chester  to  the  host. 

This  gentleman  twirled  his  moustache  and  shook 
his  head  gravely. 


ROUGHING  IT.  337 


"There  is  no  more,"  he  replied. 

Hitherto  the  Baroneza  had  been  a  silent  spectator, 
seated  on  the  bench  at  the  side  of  the  room.  At 
the  last  words  she  fumbled  in  her  lunch-bag  again, 
and  produced  a  loaf  of  bread,  which  she  placed 
before  the  diners. 

"Oh,  the  predicament  that  we  are  now  in!" 
groaned  Robinson.  "  I  would  rather  starve  a  thou- 
sand years." 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter?"  asked  Stacy. 

"How  to  repay  this  courtesy,  that  is  the  matter. 
Now,  if  this  woman  is  really  a  baroness,  and  I  offer 
to  pay  her  for  this  loaf,  she  will  justly  feel  insulted. 
And  if  she  is  a  cook,  and  we  invite  her  to  a  seat  at 
the  table  and  a  share  of  our  sausage  and  wine,  we 
will  lose  caste  in  the  estimation  of  our  magnificent 
host,  who,  I  think,  is  already  inclined  to  despise  us 
a  little.  I  suppose  he  has  taken  umbrage  at  not 
being  invited  to  help  us  eat  this  scanty  fare,  for  which 
he  will  charge  us  six  prices  to-morrow.  I  won  the 
ill-will  of  our  stage-driver  to-day  by  intimating  that  he 
ought  to  feed  his  mules  daily  instead  of  semi-weekly, 
and  I  don't  want  to  make  any  more  blunders  if  I 
can  help  it.  Ah,  the  tyranny  of  social  form  and 
custom  !  And  the  laws  of  etiquette,  where  are  they 
not  found  ?  Stacy,  what  code  do  you  think  ought  to 
prevail  here?" 

"The  code  of  gratitude  and  generosity.  Let  us 
give  this  poor  woman  the  rest  of  our  supper." 

They  were  the  only  two  women  in  this  out-of-the- 
way  place  in  the  mountains,  and,  baroness  or  cook, 
Stacy  could  not  help  feeling  a  friendly  sympathy 
22 


338  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

toward  this  negress,  who,  at  least,  was  decently 
dressed  and  of  modest  demeanor.  At  the  signal  for 
retiring,  a  separate  wing  of  the  house  was  allotted  to 
them,  and,  at  a  whispered  request  from  Stacy,  ac- 
companying her  good-night,  Chester,  valiant  as  a 
watch-dog,  threw  himself  upon  the  bench  before  the 
door  of  the  room,  and  in  a  few  moments  feigned 
slumber.  At  the  end  of  an  hour,  however,  when 
the  solemn  stillness  of  midnight  reigned  throughout 
the  house,  Robinson  heard  him  enter  his  room. 

"Roll  over,  Rob,  and  let  me  in  here.  It's  awful 
lonesome  out  there.  I  think  I  heard  something." 

"But  your  sister — " 

"  Oh,  Stacy's  all  right.  Stacy  is  brave.  Bravery 
runs  in  our  family.  Roll  over  and  let  me  in." 

"I  think  I  will  take  the  sofa  for  the  rest  of  the 
night,"  said  Robinson. 

"  Stacy  won't  like  it  if  she  knows  it,"  warned  the 
boy. 

"  She  won't  know  it." 


XXVIII. 
THEEESOPOLIS. 

Yet  he  was  kind,  or,  if  severe  in  aught, 

The  love  he  bore  to  learning  was  in  fault. 

The  village  all  declared  how  much  he  knew, 

'Twas  certain  he  could  write  and  cypher  too. 

Lands  he  could  measure,  terms  and  tides  presage, 

And  e'en  the  story  ran  that  he  could  gauge. — GOLDSMITH. 

A  T  Barreira  the  Rio  Soberbo  dashes  down  its 
-£_L  rocky  bed.  On  the  morning  following  the 
arrival  of  our  party,  this  stream  was  true  to  its 
name,  being  really  superb  in  its  beauty  as  it  came 
leaping  from  the  mountains  above.  Its  source  was 
hidden  by  the  mists  which  hung  low  upon  the 
hills,  and,  looking  up  its  succession  of  cascades  to 
where  they  were  lost  in  the  clouds,  one  could  not 
help  but  imagine  them  going  on  and  on,  like  some 
beautiful  Jacob's  ladder,  to  the  high  heavens  them- 
selves. Into  this  canon  the  early  morning  light  and 
the  influence  of  the  coming  sun  penetrated,  and, 
playing  with  the  whirls  of  mist  and  lighting  up  the 
valley's  brown  walls  of  rock  —  there  was  wonderland 
for  you. 

Ere  it  was  broad  day,  Robinson  and  Chester 
were  alert  and  on  their  way  to  the  Soberbo  for  a 
bath.  The  accomodations  were  ample.  In  the  pool 
below  the  waterfall  they  could  plunge  and  swim  ; 
the  floating  spray  washed  their  shoulders  with  a 


340  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

touch  as  light  as  a  feather  ;  and  the  cascade,  pound- 
ing their  backs  with  the  force  of  a  cannon-ball,  gave 
them  such  a  douche  as  no  artificial  establishment 
could  afford. 

On  their  return  Stacy  awaited  them  at  the  door. 
The  Baroneza  was  not  yet  visible. 

"She  must  be  a  baroness,"  Chester  thought. 
"  She  gets  up  late." 

"The  hardships  of  travel  are  not  so  very  hard 
after  all,"  said  Stacy.  "  I  slept  splendidly,  and  felt 
as  safe  as  if  I  was  in  New  York,  thanks  to  Chester. " 

"  Oh,  I  am  equal  to  a  whole  metropolitan  police," 
said  the  boy,  and  added  in  an  undertone  to  Robin- 
son, "  at  sleeping." 

The  proprietor  looked  at  the  bloom  on  Stacy's 
cheek,  and  sighed  as  he  thought,  "She  is  not  fee- 
ble; she  will  not  need  the  cadeira." 

The  cadeira  was  the  sedan-chair,  in  which,  carried 
by  two  mules  instead  of  two  men,  the  invalids  are 
accustomed  to  ascend  the  mountain. 

The  rest  of  the  journey  was  to  be  accomplished 
on  muleback.  The  party  was  led  by  a  boy  guide, 
who  seemed  to  be  of  Portuguese-Irish  parentage, 
so  shrewd,  freckled,  red-headed,  and  villainous  he 
was.  The  procession  gradually  lengthened  out, 
making  conversation  difficult ;  on  occasions  of  this 
kind  the  perverse  mule  seems  to  have  no  higher 
ambition  than  to  keep  his  nearest  predecessor  in 
sight.  Robinson  soon  fell  to  the  rear,  in  spite  of 
all  his  efforts  with  club  and  spur.  When  he  rejoined 
his  friends  at  their  first  halt  he  was  disconsolate. 


THERESOPOL1S.  341 


"Here  comes  Rob,  working  his  passage,"  ex- 
claimed Chester. 

"My  last  resort  has  failed,"  said  that  gentleman. 
"I  did  cherish  the  hope  that  a  lighted  cigar  would 
quicken  a  mule's  conscience,  and  so  I  bored  it  into 
my  palfrey's  rump  just  behind  the  saddle  — 

"  Heartless  !  "  interposed  Stacy. 

"By  no  means.  The  pachydermatous  brute 
thought  a  ray  of  sunshine  had  struck  him,  and 
wanted  to  stop  and  rest  in  it  and  enjoy  it.  But  I'll 
fix  him  yet.  Here,  Patsey  Manoel  O'Flaherty  de 
Albuquerque,"  said  he,  addressing  the  guide,  "here 
we  are  at  a  deserted  ranch.  In  this  house  there  is 
'an  empty  pantry.  In  that  pantry  —  I  forget  now 
whether  it  is  on  the  shelf  or  on  the  floor  —  you  will 
find  an  old  table-fork  with  one  prong  broken  off. 
Just  slide  through  this  hole  in  the  window  and  get 
it  for  me,  will  you  ?  " 

The  boy  did  as  he  was  bid,  and  returned  with  just 
such  an  article  in  his  hand  and  amazement  in  his 
eye  ;  he  was  afraid  that  he  had  sold  himself  to  the 
devil  in  entering  the  service  of  this  man. 

"  It  was  on  the  table,"  he  stammered.  "  The  one 
on  the  floor  had  all  the  four  prongs  whole." 

"Indeed.  I  must  have  made  a  mistake  in  my 
calculations." 

"But  how  did  you  know  it  was  there?"  asked 
Stacy,  almost  equally  amazed. 

"  My  dear]  friend,  did  you  ever  know  an  empty 
house  without  an  old  fork  lying  about  it  somewhere  ? 
Could  you  imagine  such  a  possibility  ?  It  is  as  certain 
as  the  hair-pin  on  the  floor  of  a  seminary  chapel." 


342  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  You  will  see." 

He  removed  his  right  shoe  and  nailed  the  flat  of 
the  fork  handle  underneath  the  heel,  leaving  the 
prongs  projecting  to  the  rear. 

"  There,  how  is  that  for  a  spur  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I 
flatter  myself  that  with  this  I  can  pick  up  my  steed 
and  carry  him  along  at  a  respectable  pace.  Stacy, 
Chester,  and  you,  Patsey  Manoel,  mark  my  words ! 
In  the  bitter  strife  that  for  centuries  has  been  waged 
between  man  and  mule,  the  ingenuity  of  man  is 
bound  to  conquer,  sooner  or  later." 

Ere  resuming  their  journey,  Patsey,  in  his  capa- 
city of  guide,  led  the  way  to  a  spring  of  excellent 
water,  around  which  the  cresses  were  growing. 
They  drank  from  its  spout,  nibbled  at  the  water- 
cresses,  and  breathed  the  dewy  morning  air  in  long 
and  rapturous  draughts. 

"  It  seems  as  if  we  were  in  a  different  world  from 
yesterday,"  said  Stacy.  "In  the  first  heaven  at 
least.  I  do  not  remember  Rio  as  upon  the  face  of 
the  earth.  It  seems  as  if  it  were  in  the  heart  of 
some  deep  volcanic  crater." 

"Still  there  is  something  wanting  yet,"  replied 
Robinson.  c '  In  this  exhilaration  there  is  not  that 
wine  of  life  which  we  taste  upon  the  top  of  a  peak 
in  the  Sierra  JSTevadas.  Nor  does  this  unbroken 
surface  of  green  satisfy  us  as  an  October  frost  at 
home  would.  We  think  we  are  perfectly  happy,  but 
we  are  not.  The  influence  of  the  climate  is  still 
upon  us." 

Upon   the   mountain-side   beneath   their  feet,   so 


THERESOPOLIS.  343 


steep  that  it  was  with  difficulty  that  the  birds  could 
fly  up,  the  forest  absolutely  cushioned  the  earth  and 
made  its  irregularities  smooth.  All  interspaces  be- 
tween the  trees  were  filled  with  smaller  trees  and 
shrubbery  ;  upon  the  ground  the  more  lowly  her- 
bage grew,  and  died,  and  rotted  ;  while,  binding 
this  thicket  into  an  impenetrable  mass,  where  only 
the  snake  and  the  lizard  could  find  thoroughfare,  the 
vines  and  creepers  wandered  at  their  own  sweet  will. 
Wherever,  upon  the  round  mountains  of  rock,  a 
handful  of  earth  had  accumulated,  there  the  vege- 
tation sprang  up,  a  green  patch  upon  the  brown. 

"  This  is  a  peculiar  region,  equatorial  in  its  botany, 
and  alpine  in  its  geology." 

"And  Greek  in  its  nomenclature  ;  just  think  of 
Theresopolis  and  Petropolis!" 

They  crossed  the  highest  ground  of  the  pass, 
wound  around  the  mountains  on  the  other  side,  en- 
tered the  pleasant  valley  along  which  the  village  is 
scattered,  and,  riding  at  high  gallop  down  the  road, 
were  the  event  of  the  day.  They  passed  unpreten- 
tious hotels  here  and  there,  pastures,  orchards,  corn- 
fields, and  other  evidences  of  comfort  and  prosperity. 
Then,  turning  into  a  gate  and  winding  through  a 
grove  of  quince-trees,  they  came  to  the  Hotel  of  the 
Mountains,  and  were  in  time  for  breakfast. 

Room  was  made  for  them  at  the  long  table  cPhote 
at  which  the  other  guests  were  already  assembled. 
They  were  received  cordially,  but  with  inquiring 
looks,  which  seemed  to  say,  "What  is  the  matter 
with  you?"  "Why  do  you  come  here?"  "You 
don't  look  sick." 


344  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

One  boarder,  with  a  husky  voice,  which  told  of 
wasted  lungs,  was  inquiring  of  his  neighbor  concern- 
ing the  state  of  his  liver  this  morning.  By  the  side 
of  one  plate  was  a  bottle  of  some  kind  of  Yankee 
tonic.  One  gentleman  sported  Quinium  Labarraque. 
Numerous  others  were  imbibing  new  life  with  their 
port  wine  and  seltzer. 

"They  all  take  something,"  said  Chester  to  Rob- 
inson. ' '  But  do  you  know,  I  am  awfully  afraid  this 
gentleman  on  my  left  is  going  to  offer  me  some  of 
his  liquor,  and  the  bottle  is  marked  Cod  Liver  Oil ! 
I  wonder  if  it  would  be  polite  to  decline  it?" 

"  It  is  just  like  a  hospital,"  observed  Stacy.  "  I 
always  thought  folks  didn't  have  consumption  in 
warm  countries.  I  thought  they  went  to  Florida  to 
get  cured  of  it." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Robinson  replied,  "  Brazil 
suffers  more  from  that  insidious  disease,  as  the  medi- 
cal almanacs  call  it,  than  from  the  yellow  fever,  bad 
as  it  is.  You  see  the  people  are  not  vigorous  enough. 
They  do  not  skate  in  the  winter  and  have  athletic 
sports  in  the  summer,  as  we  do  up  north.  Then  they 
sleep  in  little  alcove  rooms  in  the  centre  of  the  house, 
as  far  from  the  pure  outside  air  as  possible,  where 
their  lungs  starve  for  oxygen.  The  consequence  is 
that  they  fall  a  prey  to  the  first  sudden  change  in 
the  weather." 

They  talked  freely  together,  not  supposing  that 
their  language  was  understood  by  the  others. 

"Rob,"  asked  Chester,  uwhat  is  that  dish  of 
yellow  scraps  before  you  ?" 


THERESOPOLIS.  345 


"I  do  not  know,  indeed  ;  this  is  a  piece  of  fried 
banana  that  I  am  engaged  upon  now." 

It  was  then  that  a  little  wizened  old  gentleman  at 
Stacy's  right  hand  cleared  his  throat,  hesitated, 
worked  his  hands  nervously,  and  said,  in  answer  to 
Chester's  question: 

"Cod-d-feesh!" 

uOh!"  cried  Stacy,  with  a  suppressed  scream. 

"Ah.  you  speak  English?"  said  Robinson,  en- 
couragingly. 

"I  am  an  American,"  replied  the  old  man, 
straightening  up  proudly  and  speaking  more  freely 
as  his  native  tongue  came  back  to  him.  ' 4 1  was 
born  in  Philadelphia  —  Philamydelfxhy,  we  used  to 
call  it,"  he  said;  with  a  feeble  attempt  to  be  funny. 

"And  why  are  you  here?" 

"  It  is  many  a  year  since  I  left  the  States.  I  was 
only  a  boy  then.  I  am  now  old  and  poor  and 
weakly.  I  am  teaching  our  landlord's  eleven  chil- 
dren their  French  and  English,  and  at  the  same  time 
I  am  trying  to  feed  and  clothe  and  educate  my  own 
boy  and  girl.  It  is  a  hard  task,"  he  sighed. 

"We  are  glad  to  meet  you,  sir.  You  can  tell  us 
much  about  this  country." 

"  It  is  not  so  good  a  country  as  the  United  States. 
What  a  handsome  city  Philadelphia  is  !  And  New 
York,  there  is  some  life  there,"  said  he,  dealing  in 
reminiscences. 

"We  crossed  a  pretty  stream  a  mile  or  so  back. 
Was  that  the  Paquequer?" 

"It  was,"  replied  the  old  man. 

"  It  was  upon  this  river  that  the  scene  of  Alencar's 


34:6  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

novel  of  <  The  Guarany '  was  laid.  Is  it  true  that  it  is 
possible  to  recognize  the  spot  from  the  description 
that  he  gave  ?'' 

u  I  will  ask  the  vicar-general." 

The  vicar-general  occupied  the  end  of  the  table 
opposite  to  the  host.  He  was  dressed  in  a  flimsy 
gown  reaching  to  his  ankles.  His  paper  collar  and 
his  beard  had  been  equally  neglected,  and  were  per- 
haps a  week  or  ten  days  of  age.  The  lines  of  his 
face,  and  especially  his  full,  red,  fleshy  lips,  were 
indicative  of  a  carnal  mind.  His  bearing  was  that 
of  an  autocrat,  whose  word  had  never  been  disputed 
and  whose  sway  was  absolute. 

"  There  is  no*such  place,"  he  said.  The  insolence 
of  office,  even  if  it  was  a  holy  office,  was  in  his  man- 
ner. 

"  But  I  have  it  from  excellent  authority — " 

"  There  is  no  such  a  place,"  he  repeated,  with 
majesty.  Robinson  was  crushed. 

The  eyes  of  the  breakfast  table  were  upon  the  rash 
American  whose  temerity  had  led  him  to  impeach 
so  high  a  testimony.  He  was  embarrassed,  and  im- 
mediately grasped  for  another  subject,  coming  back 
to  the  codfish,  which  he  discussed  in  the  English 
language  with  the  old  schoolmaster. 

c '  The  taste  for  this  article  of  diet  seems  to  be 
national  here  in  Brazil.  Why  is  it  ?" 

"There  is  no  accounting  for  tastes.  Why  does 
the  American  love  oysters  ?  Why  does  the  English- 
man love  beef?  It  is  true  that  these  people  seem  to 
have  a  passion  for  codfish.  I  once  travelled  on  an 
English  steamer,  where  there  was  a  Brazilian  too 


THERESOPOLIS.  347 


lazy  to  get  up  for  breakfast,  except  when  they  had 
it.  But  when  the  steward  would  come  to  his  state- 
room door  and  sing  out,  ^Bacalhcio !  JBacalhao  ! 
Codfish  for  breakfast ! '  he  would  leap  from  his  berth 
and  be  the  first  one  at  the  table." 

Robinson  was  silent.  He  was  mentally  putting 
in  shape  the  following  entry  for  his  note-book : 

"  In  Brazil  the  codfish  is  the  poor  man's  turkey 
and  the  rich  man's  reed-bird  and  turtle.  All  pic- 
tures of  the  early  Portuguese  pioneer  represent  him 
returning  home  at  night  from  his  labors  •  with  a  cod- 
fish under  his  arm.  The  salt  cod  is  brought  from 
Newfoundland  by  the  ship-load,  it  is  stacked  in  the 
warehouses  by  the  cord,  and  is  eaten  by  the  pound. 
A  dish  of  this  rank  savor  will  always  cause  a  Bra- 
zilian's nostrils  to  curl  in  delight  and  his  brow  to 
wreathe  in  smiles.  Brazilians  arriving  in  New  York 
and  afflicted  with  nostalgia  will  find  it  to  their 
advantage  to  select  a  boarding-house  down  town, 
where  they  will  find  all  of  the  comforts  of  home, 
poor  ventilation  and  codfish  included." 


XXIX. 

PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE. 

Tartuff  e  !  il  se  porte  a  merveille, 
Gras  et  gros,  le  teint  frais,  et  la  bouche  vermeille. 

—  MOLIERE. 


days  passed  very  pleasantly  at  Theresopolis. 
Dodging  the  frequent  showers,  our  travellers 
rode  or  walked  morning  after  morning,  following 
the  various  mountain  paths  of  the  vicinity.  In  the 
midday  they  lounged  upon  the  porch  and  tasted  a 
dainty  lunch  of  fresh  figs  and  peaches.  In  the  evening 
the  favorite  stroll  was  down  the  dewy  valley  along 
which  the  village  is  scattered,  where,  at  nightfall, 
surrounded  by  the  dusk,  they  could  look  upward  and 
upward  and  see  the  wonderful  pinnacle  of  the  Dedo 
de  Deus  yet  aglow  with  the  colors  of  sunset.  Who 
has  not  taken  that  walk  and  seen  that  sight,  has  vis- 
ited Brazil  in  vain. 

Often  they  wandered  through  the  garden,  where 
the  fruits  and  flowers  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other 
in  hue  and  profusion.  The  strawberries  blushed  in 
their  seclusion  of  leaves;  the  black  clusters  of  grapes 
drooped  from  the  lattice  overhead;  and  the  apricots 
lured  them  from  one  tree  to  the  next.  How  the 
great  downcast  heads  of  the  dahlias  languished,  as 
if  they  too  felt  the  general  indolence  of  the  coun- 
try !  How  the  tulip  was  gaudy  and  bold,  and  the 

348 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  349 

madresilva  was  pale  and  chaste  !  And  how  the  roses 
were  rich  in  their  velvet  and  perfumes,  voluptuous 
as  the  Brazilian  maiden  in  her  short  June  of  beauty, 
before  she  begins  to  fade !  Blessed  be  the  seasons 
which  come  and  go  and  bring  to  every  land  and 
people  that  fairest  of  months,  June,  which  never  de- 
serts the  earth  entirely.  At  every  period  of  the 
year  the  strawberries  are  reddening  and  the  roses 
are  blooming  somewhere,  be  it  in  California,  be  it 
in  Brazil. 

At  this  Hotel  das  Montanhas  they  saw  a  Brazilian 
family  at  home,  and  had  a  peep  into  the  domestic 
life  of  this  nation. 

"Things  are  not  so  very  stiff  here  after  all,"  said 
Chester,  approvingly,  on  the  evening  of  the  first 
day.  "  Wherever  we  went  to  call  down  in  Rio  the 
parlors  were  always  as  solemn  as  a  funeral.  I  used 
to  get  so  nervous  that  I  would  fairly  squirm.  But 
in  the  sitting-room  here  the  chairs  get  quite  sociable 
and  mixed  up  in  the  course  of  the  day.  There  is 
some  chance  for  a  fellow  to  get  his  feet  out  of 
sight." 

Chester  was  thinking  of  the  mathematical  exact- 
ness which  prevailed  in  the  Brazilian  reception- 
rooms  as  he  had  hitherto  seen  them ;  of  the  geo- 
metrical order  in  which  the  seats  were  arranged,  a 
wing  composed  of  two  chairs  running  out  from  each 
end  of  the  sofa  toward  the  centre  of  the  apart- 
ment ;  and  of  the  dreadful  feeling  of  incarceration 
which  pierced  his  marrow  as  he  sat  there  in  one  of 
those  chairs,  and  twirled  his  fingers,  and  wished  the 
visit  was  over. 


350  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"  The  mother's  position  is  not  an  enviable  one," 
observed  Robinson.  "Do  you  notice  that  we  rarely 
see  her  in  the  parlor  and  never  at  the  table  ?  She  is 
engaged  in  ranching  the  children  and  marshalling 
the  female  slaves  in  that  out-building  over  yonder." 

"They  are  pretty  children,  and  well-behaved,-1 
replied  Stacy.  "Now  what  could  be  nicer  than  the 
manners  of  this  little  girl  ?  " 

The  child  in  question  approached  them,  shook 
hands  with  each,  and  with  a  soft  "  Boa  noite  !  "  left 
them  for  the  night.  The  Portuguese  language  never 
sounds  so  charming  as  when  in  the  mouths  of  chil- 
dren. 

"That's  Margarida, "  said  Chester.  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  cultivate  the  acquaintance  of  that  little  lady, 
just  to  learn  the  language,  you  know." 

"But  I  notice,"  observed  Robinson,  "that  what 
is  naive  and  artless  in  the  child  becomes  affected 
and  simpering  in  the  woman.  Oh,  I  made  an  awful 
blunder  to-night,  just  after  tea." 

"Why,  how  was  that?" 

"  When  we  all  got  up  and  stood  in  a  row  around 
the  table  I  supposed  we  were  going  to  get  a  bene- 
diction from  the  priest,  and  so  I  waited  for  my 
share.  Then  what  does  that  spinster  who  sits  near 
us  do  but  walk  straight  toward  me  and  throw  out 
her  hand  at  me.  As  we  had  never  been  introduced, 
and  I  did  not  know  what  her  intentions  were,  I  was 
a  trifle  scared,  and  retreated  into  a  corner.  She 
giggled,  and  went  to  the  next  man,  shook  his  hand, 
said,  "J50'  NoV! "  in  an  automatic  way,  and  so 
went  the  rounds.  When  she  came  back  to  where  I 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  351 

was,  I  looked  at  her  in  a  way  to  intimate  that  Barkis 
was  willin' — just  to  appease  her,  you  see  —  and  we 
crossed  our  palms,  and  then  she  snickered  again. 
Hers  was  the  most  lifeless  grasp  I  ever  encountered. 
I  do  not  like  this  promiscuous  hand-shaking ;  just 
as  if  a  person  was  President  of  the  United  States.1' 

"I  think  she  has  designs  upon  you,"  said  Stacy, 
quietly. 

"  Fruitless  efforts.  I  do  not  like  her.  I  think  I 
have  caught  her  laughing  at  my  Portuguese  once  or 
twice.  If  she  thinks  that  is  the  way  to  win  my  af- 
fections she  is  sadly  mistaken." 

"I  reserve  all  of  my  repugnance  for  the  vicar- 
general,  the  high  priest,  as  you  call  him.  I  dis- 
like that  man  exceedingly.  It  is  impossible  for  a 
man  with  his  face  —  and  collar  —  to  be  refined  and 
good.  I  wonder  that  a  people  so  intelligent  as 
these  can  respect  him." 

"As  for  me,  I  wonder  what  constitutes  a  beard 
in  the  etiquette  of  the  Catholic  church.  If  beards 
are  prohibited  to  the  holy  orders,  his  present  growth 
must  be  a  serious  sin  of  omission." 

"Well,  to-morrow  is  Sunday;  we  will  hope  for 
the  best,"  said  Stacy. 

"  That  is,  a  clean  face  and  a  new  paper  collar." 

The  compliments  of  the  next  morning  were  being 
exchanged.  Stacy  was  fresh  and  bright  as  ever. 
Chester  had  not  yet  appeared.  Robinson  had  a 
haggard  look. 

"  You  did  not  rest  well  ? "  asked  Stacy. 

"  Rest?"  and  he  laughed  bitterly. 

"Why  not?" 


352  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"Rest?  The  prey  to  a  myriad  of  fleas  ?  And  a 
goat  in  the  next  room  ?  And  that  goat  with  a  guilty 
conscience  ? " 

' 4  Oh,  your  picture  is  certainly  overdrawn. " 

"Fancy  a  goat  with  a  guilty  conscience!  Or 
maybe  it  was  fleas  also ;  but  no,  it  could  not  have 
been.  I  had  all  of  the  fleas  myself.  And  there 
was  that  miserable  goat  groaning  and  stamping  and 
struggling  the  livelong  night.  Macbeth's  remorse 
wasn't  a  circumstance  to  it.  Fancy  a  goat  with  a 
guilty  conscience ! ' ' 

"  Where  were  you  ?" 

"In  one  of  the  cottages.  And  the  goat  had  the 
other  apartment.  And  that  goat  with  a  guilty 
con  —  " 

u  Have  you  seen  the  vicar-general  this  morning  ?" 

"What,  the  high  priest?  No.  The  father  of 
this  parish — whom  I  presume  we  may  designate  as 
the  low  priest — was  up  betimes  and  off  to  mass,  as 
clean  and  jaunty  as  a  boy  in  his  Sunday  clothes. 
So,  whatever  the  condition  of  the  high  priest,  we 
must  not  allow  ourselves  to  lose  all  faith  in  Cathol- 
icism yet." 

Stacy  assented. 

"This  parish  padre  is  a  nice  little  old  gentleman, 
even  if  he  is  an  Italian  and  a  priest.  I  do  not  ob- 
ject to  him.  He  is  really  quite  agreeable." 

Here  Chester  made  his  appearance  and  yawned 
forth  a  lazy  good-morning. 

"  Chester,"  said  Eobinson,  "  run  and  hunt  up  the 
vicar-general.  Acquaint  us  with  his  whereabouts. 
Inform  us  of  his  condition.  Also  of  his  occupation. 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  353 

Report  in  full.  Hath  he  shaved  ?  Hath  he  a  clean 
collar  ?  Hath  he  buttoned  the  bosom  of  his  gown  ? 
Doth  he  agonize  in  prayer?  Upon  your  reply 
depends  very  much  of  our  future  opinion  of  the 
holy  Catholic  church." 

Chester  collected  the  desired  information.  It  was 
as  follows : 

No,  he  was  not  praying.  On  this  beautiful  Sun- 
day morning  the  vicar-general  of  this  province  was 
engaged  in  the  harmless  and  salubrious  amusement 
of  punching  a  game  of  billiards  with  three  of  the 
boarders.  When  Chester  left  him  he  was  chalking 
his  cue.  He  had  not  fully  buttoned  his  gown.  He 
had  not  a  clean  collar.  He  had  not  apparently 
washed  his  face,  let  alone  to  shave.  He  had  a 
tooth-pick  over  his  ear,  but  it  seemed  to  be  an  old 
one,  left  over  from  yesterday. 

"I  despair,"  moaned  Stacy. 

uAnd  I,"  said  Robinson,  "  if  I  were  invited  to 
get  up  a  device  emblematic  of  the  condition  of  the 
Catholic  church  in  Brazil,  I  would  take  the  figure  of 
a  man  high  in  holy  orders,  dressed  in  a  priestly 
gown,  unshaven  and  untidy,  chalking  a  billiard  cue 
and  wrangling  over  the  number  of  points  made. 
On  the  other  side  I  might  put  the  same  person 
reading  a  French  novel  and  flirting  with  the  women 
of  the  household,  for  that  is  probably  what  this  man 
will  do  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

"  But  do  the  people  really  believe  in  these  men  ?" 
asked  Stacy. 

"Yes,  and  no.     The  ignorant  and  the  women - 
pardon   me    the    words  —  are   their  devotees,    and 


354  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

probably  would  be  if  the  devil  himself  turned  monk. 
Woman's  nature,  as  you  know,  must  have  some 
religion,  and  this  is  the  only  one  that  she  is  ac- 
quainted with.  The  educated  and  refined  men, 
however,  soon  shake  off  the  yoke,  and,  finding  no 
better  belief  handy,  become  scoffers  at  all  religions. 
But  since  it  is  in  bad  form,  speaking  in  society  slang, 
to  be  outside  of  the  church  entirely,  they  still  say 
masses  over  their  dead  friends  and  go  through  the 
other  forms  of  mummery.  The  priests  don't  care 
how  deep  in  purgatory  a  departed  soul  may  be,  so 
long  as  they  get  their  fees  for  lifting  it  out.  Why, 
once  there  was  an  American  up  in  San  Paulo  who 
got  tired  of  the  half-way  existence  which  they  call 
life  down  here,  and  killed  himself.  Not  only  was 
he  a  suicide,  but  also  a  Protestant  and  a  Free 
Mason,  so  there  were  three  cogent  reasons  why  he 
should  be  denied  the  holy  ceremonies  and  solicitude 
of  the  church.  But  a  companion  of  his,  prompted 
perhaps  by  curiosity  to  see  just  how  venal  the  priest- 
hood is,  perhaps  by  a  kind  desire  to  have  this  friend 
treated  with  all  the  courtesies  customary  on  these 
occasions,  determined  to  have  masses  said  for  his 
unabsolved  soul.  And  the  mercenary  padre  said 
them  as  long  as  the  money  lasted." 

The  return  of  the  benevolent  and  rotund  parish 
priest  preserved  the  Catholic  church  from  yet 
harsher  judgments,  and  in  the  evening  of  that  day 
he  behaved  so  nicely  that  he  won  the  esteem  of  all. 
A  lady  was  at  the  piano  with  her  hands  upon  the 
keys.  What  should  she  play  ? 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  355 

"La  Fille  de  Madame  Angot /"  cried  a  gentle- 
man, true  to  the  national  taste  of  Brazil. 

The  little  priest  looked  up  and  shook  his  head,  with 
a  frown  upon  his  brow,  but  so  benignant  that,  while 
it  reproached,  it  did  not  offend.  At  his  suggestion  the 
lady  then  played  a  strain  of  some  quaint  old  opera, 
while  he,  standing  at  her  side,  with  his  hand  upon 
his  heart,  head,  or  in  mid-air,  according  to  the  senti- 
ment of  the  piece,  sang  the  accompanying  words. 
This  was  loudly  applauded,  and,  in  response  to  an 
encore,  he  stepped  to  the  middle  of  the  room  and 
recited  a  long  piece  of  verse  whose  subject  was 
"  Charity."  His  declamation  was  schoolboyish, 
abounding  in  gestures,  but  it  was  pleasant  to  hear, 
and  at  its  close  he  was  a  greater  favorite  than  ever. 

Following  this  entertainment  some  of  the  guests 
read;  for  this  house  had  a  library  plenteously  stocked, 
unlike  most  Brazilian  homes,  where  an  opera  or  two 
and  a  manual  of  exercises  for  the  soul  are  the  prin- 
cipal literary  treasures  to  be  found.  Some  played 
at  games,  and  among  these  were  Chester  and  the 
child  Margarida,  whose  pretty  demeanor  had  won 
his  heart  the  day  before.  By  this  time  they  were 
so  deeply  involved  that,  in  their  present  contest  at 
draughts,  he  would  make  the  most  eccentric  play, 
just  for  the  opportunity  of  touching  her  hand  as  it 
lay  upon  the  board.  The  wily  creature  soon  dis- 
covered her  opponent's  weakness  and  availed  herself 
of  it ;  using  the  tiny  hand  as  a  lure,  she  beguiled 
Chester  into  moves  that  were  simply  suicidal. 

One  of  the  children  brought  in  a  captive  pet  to 
please  the  stranger  guests.  It  was  one  of  those 


356  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

beetles  upon  whose  shoulders,  like  epaulettes  of  the 
carbuncle  stone,  Nature  has  placed  two  sources  of 
phosphorescent  light.  When  the  insect  is  agitated 
these  kindle  up  and  shine  like  two  flaming  eyes. 
In  quiet  they  die  away  to  the  hue  of  an  expiring 
coal  of  fire. 

"It  is  a  means  of  defence,"  explained  Robinson. 
"When  it  wants  to  frighten  another  animal  away 
it  turns  on  the  gas.  I  am  no  coward,  but  I  do  not 
know  as  I  would  like  to  meet  one  of  these  animals 
alone  upon  a  dark  night.  The  glare  of  its  eye  is 
terribly  suggestive.  If  history  is  correct  these  in- 
offensive bugs  nearly  scared  the  Spanish  conquerors 
of  Mexico  out  of  the  country  ;  they  thought  they  saw 
in  the  woods  the  distant  torches  of  an  innumerable 
enemy." 

"Yet,"  replied  Stacy,  "the  ladies  wear  them  as 
ornaments,  so  the  travellers  say.  Fancy  a  ball- 
room gleaming  with  these  fires." 

"And  since  the  illumination  is  proportioned  to 
the  agitation,  think  how  they  must  blaze  in  a  good 
romping  galop!  They  would  outshine  all  the  dia- 
monds of  Mato  Grosso,  and  would  be  a  good  deal 
cheaper,  too." 

"They  say  that  the  Indians  use  them  to  light  their 
way  upon  their  travels.  I  wonder  if  it  is  true." 

"  I  can  understand  how  these  would  make  excel- 
lent flambeaux  for  a  party  of  savages  in  an  idealistic 
novel  of  the  Cooper  style,  but  for  good  solid  practice 
I  think  the  intelligent  and  unromantic  aborigine 
would  prefer  the  flame  of  a  pine  knot." 

' '  Travellers, "  said  Chester,  i  c  always  say  that  they 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  357 

have  read  fine  print  by  this  light.     Let's  take  this 
bug  off  in  a  dark  corner  and  try." 

"Here  is  a  good,  honest  oil  lamp  on  the  table," 
replied  Kobinson.  "  Why  not  read  your  fine  print 
here  ? " 

"  But  I  want  to  be  able  to  say  that  I've  read  it  by 
the  light  of  these  beetles." 

"Well,  can't  you  say  so?    What's  to  hinder?" 

"The  truth,"  responded  Chester,  sturdily. 

"My  dear  boy,  after  you  have  knocked  around 
the  world  long  enough  to  write  a  book,  you  will 
have  learned  that  truth  is  one  of  the  least  of  the 
obstacles  that  the  indefatigable  traveller  has  to 
encounter  and  overcome." 

The  arbor  was  the  lecture-room  of  the  old  school- 
master. There,  morning  after  morning,  he  ranged 
his  pupils  upon  a  bench,  and,  seated  opposite  them, 
taught 'them  the  language  of  that  city  upon  which 
their  tender  hopes  made  focus  —  Paris.  The  Bra- 
zilian infant  imbibes  the  French  vocabulary  and 
verb  with  its  nurse's  milk,  and  when  the  benevolent 
godfather  comes  to  see  his  pet,  he  does  not  catechise 
it  after  the  manner  of  the  United  States,  where  they 
inquire  how  much  are  seven  times  nine,  what  is  the 
capital  city  of  Austria,  and  how  many  parts  of  speech 
there  are ;  but,  touching  its  nose,  he  asks  what  is 
the  French  for  this,  and  pointing  to  its  ear,  "for 
this,"  and  kissing  its  baby  mouth,  "for  this." 

Chester  joined  the  class,  but,  as  may  be  inferred, 
he  did  not  distinguish  himself  in  either  Portuguese 
or  French.  One  day,  after  the  others  were  dis- 
missed, the  school-master  retained  him  and  gave 


358  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

him  a  private  lesson  in  the  former,  which  Robinson 
also  listened  to  with  profit. 

4 'My  boy,"  he  said,  "you  must  not  say  tom- 
beng  for  tambem.  It  is  very  wrong  indeed.  And 
I  observe  that  you  pronounce  nao  as  if  it  was  spelled 
now,  and  barlio  you  render  barow  or  barong,  neglect- 
ing that  nasal  intonation  which  is  so  necessary. 
Strive  to  correct  these  faults,  and  be  careful  about 
your  terminations  for  gender.  Remember  to  sound 
the  final  syllable.  If  you  wish  to  say  that  a  thing 
is  white,  it  is  either  branco  or  branca,  and  not  branc\ 
as  you  so  often  say.'0 

uBut  nobody  uses  that  last  syllable,"  protested 
Chester. 

"The  educated  do,  and  it  is  these  niceties  in  the 
use  of  language  that  distinguish  the  accomplished 
from  the  vulgar." 

"  But  what  if  a  fellow  don't  know  whether  a  thing 
is  branco  or  firanca  ?  How  is  a  man  going  to  remem- 
ber what  gender  a  telegraph  pole  is,  or  a  window 
shutter  ?" 

<  4 1  thought  that  was  your  reason  for  saying  eW 
and  estf  and  pretf  and  branc\  It  reminds  me  of  a 
pupil  in  French  that  I  once  had.  He  never  could 
remember  when  to  use  the  acute  and  when  the  grave 
accent  over  a  letter,  so,  as  a  compromise,  he  made 
the  marks  all  vertical,  saying  that  the  reader  could 
lean  them  to  suit  himself;  he  meant  them  right." 

Chester  pondered  deeply  on  hearing  this.  He 
was  wondering  if  that  was  not  better  than  his  own 
system,  which  was  to  make  all  accents  acute,  and 
then  he  would  be  right  half  the  time  on  an  average. 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  359 

"Again,  you  must  be  cautious  in  your  transla- 
tions. Do  not  think  that  the  same  word  always 
means  the  same  thing  in  both  languages.  If  you 
want  to  buy  a  cigar,  you  call  for  a  charuto,  not  a 
cigarro.  This  morning  you  read  an  account  of  an 
accident  from  the  paper.  It  was  headed  '  Lament- 
avel  Successo^  which  you  rendered  'Lamentable 
Success.'  That  was  very  wrong,  for  successes  are 
not  lamentable.  The  same  with  desgraqa,  which 
does  not  mean  'disgrace,'  but  'disaster.'  Now  do 
you  know  what  '  Pois  nao '  means  ?  It  is  in  very 


common  use." 


"It  sounds  like  a  double-barrelled  no.  I  would 
translate  it  '  Certainly  not,'  '  By  no  means.'  ' 

"On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  strongest  kind  of  an 
affirmative.  It  signifies  '  Certainly,'  '  By  all  means.' 
I  will  tell  you  a  story  to  impress  it  on  your  mind." 

In  words  of  his  own  he  proceeded  to  relate  the 
following  incident: 

There  was  once  a  young  American  who  went  to  an 
evening  party  at  Rio.  He  was  an  expert  at  dancing, 
but  of  the  language  he  did  not  know  much  more 
than  enough  to  keep  him  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
police.  "  Shall  I  have  the  pleasure  of  the  first  walsa 
with  you  ?"  he  asked  of  a  young  lady. 

"Pois  nao"  she  answered,  and  smiled  upon  him. 

"Well,  that  is  blunt  enough.  She  might  have 
drawn  her  refusal  a  little  more  mildly,"  he  said  to 
himself. 

"May  I  have  the  honor,  etc.,"  he  asked  of  an- 
other. 

"Pois  nao"  she  replied. 


360  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

He  was  now  abashed.  He  wondered  if  all  of  the 
Brazilian  ladies  were  as  rude  as  these.  He  went  to 
the  mirror  to  see  if  he  was  all  right ;  that  is,  if  there 
was  no  whitewash  on  his  back,  and  no  salad  in  his 
whiskers.  His  toilet  was  irreproachable. 

He  resolved  to  try  another. 

"Poia  nao"  was  her  reply,  although  she  did  not 
seem  to  look  upon  him  unkindly. 

This  crushed  him  completely.  He  went  and  stood 
himself  up  in  the  corner  and  watched  the  dance 
begin.  When  it  was  nearly  done,  the  hostess  came 
to  him  and  inquired : 

"  Why  are  you  not  dancing  ?" 

"  Can't  get  a  partner,"  he  replied,  gloomily. 

" But  have  you  tried?" 

4 'Three  times." 

"  What  did  they  say?" 

"  'No,  indeed;'  every  one  of  them." 

"  But  what  did  they  say,  in  Portuguese  ?" 

"Poisnao." 

"Stupid!  That  means 'Yes,  indeed.'  You  have 
made  three  engagements.  Don't  you  see  them  glar- 
ing on  you  ?  They  are  mortally  offended." 

"  Oh,  Great  Scott,  what  a  scrape  !  I  don't  want  to 
live  any  longer." 

The  old  schoolmaster  drifted  again  into  personal 
history,  beginning  with  his  boyhood  in  "  Philamy- 
delphy,"  since  which  time  he  had  wandered  hither 
and  thither  about  the  world.  At  last  he  married  a 
Brazilian  woman  and  became  more  stationary.  She 
had  died,  leaving  him  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl, 
for  whom  he  was  now  living. 


PRIEST  AND  PEDAGOGUE.  361 

u  Did  you  notice  my  daughter  ?"  he  asked.  u  She 
was  the  one  sitting  nearest  me.  She  is  only  thir- 
teen, but,  young  as  she  is,  she  is  exposed  to  tempta- 
tion night  and  day.  Before  I  came  here  I  was  tutor 
at  the  fazenda  of  the  Baron  of  Curumaru,  but  for  the 
safety  of  my  child  I  was  obliged  to  leave.  The 
house  was  full  of  young  men,  and  all  of  them  idle. 
Idleness  is  the  great  curse  of  this  country,  and  hence 
its  moral  tone  is  very  low.  With  such  a  priest- 
hood as  ours,  what  else  could  be  expected  ?" 


XXX. 
MOUNTAINEERING. 

Away,  away,  from  men  and  towns, 

To  the  wild  woods  and  the  downs, — 

To  the  silent  wilderness 

Where  the  soul  need  not  repress 

Its  music,  lest  it  should  not  find 

An  echo  in  another's  mind.  —  SHELLEY. 

IT  was  high  time  to  come  out  from  their  seclusion 
at  Theresopolis  and  join  in  the  family  reunion  at 
the  sister  village  of  Petropolis.  Though  anxious  to 
see  her  father  and  little  Pauline,  Stacy  shuddered 
whenever  she  thought  of  Piedade,  that  dismal  house 
with  the  insect  population,  and  again  and  again 
begged  further  delay.  At  last  Robinson  suggested 
a  trip  by  the  mountain  trail  to  Petropolis. 

"It  is  only  thirty  miles.  We  can  easily  make  it 
in  one  day,"  he  assured  her. 

"Is  it  really  passable  ?"  she  inquired,  eagerly. 

"Barely  passable,  as  the  guide  said  to  Napoleon." 

"Then  let  us  advance,  as  Napoleon  said  to  the 
guide." 

' '  It  can't  be  a  very  rough  road, "  Chester  said,  as 
encouragement.  "The  Princess  went  over  it  once." 

"  Oh,  well,  then  I  can  go  easily,"  replied  Stacy. 

"But  the  Princess  had  courtiers  to  smooth  her 
way,"  Robinson  warned  her. 

"  So  have  I — you  and  Chester.    Any  more  would 


MOUNTAINEERING.  363 

be  an  embarrassment  of  riches.  Even  you  two  are 
sometimes  one  too  many." 

" Which  one?"  asked  Chester.  But  Stacy  did 
not  choose  to  tell. 

So  their  plans  were  laid,  and  one  cool  and  cloudy 
morning  they  mounted  their  sturdy  mules  and  said 
their  adieux  to  their  host. 

"  How  kind  he  is !"  remarked  Stacy.  u  He  seems 
really  sorry  to  see  us  go.  I  think  I  saw  a  tear-drop 
glisten  in  his  eye." 

But  Robinson  was  always  misanthropical  in  the 
early  morning. 

uYes,"  he  growled  in  reply,  "  so  sorry  to  lose 
us — and  our  board-bills  —  that  I  think  I  caught  him 
counterplotting  against  me  in  my  efforts  to  engage 
this  outfit.  A  deep  attachment,  indeed." 

The  drooping  foliage,  heavy  with  rain-drops, 
showered  them  with  malicious  dashes  as  they 
brushed  under  it.  The  winding  woodland  road 
went  up  valleys,  across  divides,  and  down  other 
valleys.  Here  and  there  were  shabby  houses  and 
little  farms,  with  fields  of  corn  upon  the  adjacent 
hill-sides. 

"This  doesn't  amount  to  much  for  scenery,"  said 
Robinson,  still  in  an  unappreciative  mood.  "  We 
might  as  well  be  at  home  ;  they  have  corn-fields  and 
green  woods  there.  I  expected  to  see  something 
grand  to  pay  us  for  this  trip." 

Chester  had  expected  the  same. 

"  Such  as  tapirs,  and  Indian  girls,  and  diamond- 
mines  with  slaves  at  work  in  them,  and  one  darky 
finding  a  diamond,  and  big  snakes,  and  cocoa-nut 


364  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

trees  with  monkeys  in  the  top  throwing  down  cocoa- 
nuts  at  you,"  added  this  imaginative  boy. 

"  Don't  you  see  anything  marvellous  and  beautiful 
in  these  dense  thickets  of  plant-life  by  the  road-side?" 
reproachfully  asked  Stacy.  "  See,  it  is  all  different 
from  what  we  have  at  home.  For  me  these  peculiar 
forms  of  leaf  and  flower  possess  a  great  fascination  — 
or  at  least  they  would  if  I  were  a  botanist,"  she 
added,  with  a  strict  adherence  to  truth  which  did  her 
credit. 

"Yes,  but  we  are  not  botanists,"  observed  Kob- 
inson. 

""Well,  then,  consider  that  corn-field  which  you 
have  just  despised.  Do  you  see  near  the  centre  that 
dead  tree,  white  as  a  skeleton  almost,  with  the 
epiphyte  all  aglow  with  the  color  of  life  clinging  to 
the  side  of  the  dry  trunk  and  drooping  its  tendrils 
down  ?  It  is  like  a  living  bud  on  a  dead  and  with- 
ered stalk.  I  think  that  you  will  confess  that  this  is 
a  rare  spectacle.  You  never  saw  the  like  of  it  in  a 
corn-field  at  home.  If  I  were  an  artist  I  would  ask 
no  better  subject  for  a  painting  than  this." 

Here  they  caught  up  with  Chester,  who  had  been 
riding  in  advance  with  the  guide.  He  was  appar- 
ently troubled,  and  was  switching  the  overhanging 
leaves  sulkily. 

"Well,  my  son,  what  is  the  matter  with  you 
now?  "  inquired  Robinson. 

"  That  fellow  insulted  me." 

"  Indeed.     And  how  was  that  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  that  a  goose  was  a  goose,  and  I 
won't  take  that  from  any  man." 


MOUNTAINEERING.  365 

"  Insulted  !  I  should  think  so.  We'll  have  to  wash 
that  out  in  blood.  But  what  in  the  world  ever  made 
him  give  you  that  piece  of  gratuitous  information?" 

"I  was  riding  along  this  morning  with  him  when 
a  funny  bird,  two-thirds  bill,  like  the  accommoda- 
tions at  our  hotel,  flew  across  the  path,  and  I  asked 
him  what  it  was.  After  that  he  told  me  the  name  of 
everything  that  had  wings,  just  as  if  we  didn't  have 
birds  in  our  country,  and  when  we  passed  that  house 
back  there,  and  he  told  me  that  a  goose  was  a  goose, 
I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  But  I  really  would 
like  to  know  what  that  is,"  continued  the  boy, 
pointing  to  a  black  butterfly  which  crossed  their 
route  before  them. 

"That  is  the  omen  of  disappointed  hope,"  Rob- 
inson informed  him.  "Having  looked  upon  that 
dark  insect  of  destiny,  your  most  cherished  scheme 
is  bound  to  fail." 

"I  suppose  it  is  all  up  with  me  and  Balbinda, 
then,"  said  the  boy  sadly. 

The  already  narrow  road  narrowed  into  a  moun- 
tain trail,  which  zigzagged  up  the  precipitous  slope. 
It  was  long  since  it  had  been  travelled,  and  the 
matted  bamboos  and  underwood,  weakened  by  the 
luxury  of  much  rain,  had  lopped  across  its  course. 
The  guide  drew  from  its  sheath  on  his  hip  the  big 
knife,  half  cleaver  and  half  broadsword,  without 
which  the  Brazilian  mountaineer's  outfit  is  incom- 
plete. With  this  he  hewed  a  path  for  them,  but  his 
progress  was  slow,  and  it  was  noon  when  the  sum- 
mit was  gained  and  they  found  themselves  at  the 
highest  point  of  their  journey. 


366  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

They  were  still  within  the  limits  of  vegetation  and 
in  the  shade  of  the  friendly  trees,  although  immedi- 
ately at  their  left  the  stupendous  mass  of  rock  arose, 
so  high  that  it  seemed  to  be  one  of  the  substantial 
pillars  of  the  sky.  It  was  barren  of  all  life  except 
the  hardy  growth  of  some  strange  plant,  yucca  or 
cactus,  which  clung  with  tenacious  roots  in  the 
crevices  here  and  there,  and  which,  its  white  color 
standing  out  from  the  weather-stained  brown  of  the 
granite,  appeared  in  the  distance  like  scattered  sheep 
upon  a  hill-side. 

In  the  course  of  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  after- 
noon's journey  they  came  to  a  fazenda,  where,  upon 
the  porch,  was  sitting  the  proprietor. 

"Qu&r  repousar  e  refrescar?  Won't  you  rest 
awhile  and  take  some  refreshment?"  he  called  out 
to  Robinson. 

The  fazendeiro's  cordial  manner,  the  comfortable 
shade  of  the  piazza,  the  ruddy  peaches  and  the  pur- 
ple grapes,  were  all  very  inviting,  but  Robinson  was 
obliged  to  express  his  regrets  that  the  way  was  yet 
long  before  them,  and  they  could  not  delay. 

"]STow  there  was  hospitality  for  you,"  said  he,  as 
they  passed  on.  "That  man's  house,  isolated  and 
massive  as  it  is,  is  not  his  castle,  in  which  to  in- 
trench himself  against  the  weary  traveller  passing 
by.  That  man  would  scorn  to  make  the  selfish  claim 
so  current  in  England, —  that  one's  house  is  his  cas- 
tle ;  from  which  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  the  English- 
man considers  all  of  the  outside  world  as  his  enemy, 
and  with  insolent  servants,  vigilant  keepers,  and 
impenetrable  hedges,  seeks  to  keep  it  at  bay.  Cas- 


MOUNTAINEERING.  367 

ties  were  all  very  well  in  the  times  of  baronial  feud 
and  perpetual  skirmish,  but  if  England  were  the 
civilized  country  that  she  pretends  to  be,  she  would 
have  no  use  for  them  to-day.  This  Brazilian  fazen- 
deiro  puts  the  English  gentleman  to  shame." 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken,  Henry,"  replied  Stacy, 
hesitating,  as  she  always  did  when  about  to  advance 
bold  opinions  of  her  own.  "It  may  not  be  to  my 
credit  to  say  so,  but  I  have  sometimes  thought  that 
pure  and  disinterested  hospitality,  entertaining  for 
the  sake  of  entertaining  and  not  for  the  hope  of 
recompense,  very  rarely  exists.  Selfishness  under- 
lies it  all,  and  the  reason  why  this  man  opened  his 
doors  to  us  was  because  he  was  lonesome,  wanted  a 
chance  to  talk,  as  all  Brazilians  always  do,  and  had 
an  indistinct  idea  that  we  were  some  important 
family  from  abroad,  whose  acquaintance  would  do 
him  honor.  Who  would  not  be  willing  to  sacrifice 
a  basket  of  fruit,  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  an  hour's 
time  in  such  a  cause  ?  " 

"An  Englishman  wouldn't." 

"Neither  would  a  New  Yorker,  perhaps.  That's 
because  these  countries  are  so  thickly  populated  that 
their  people  have  no  time  to  get  lonesome  and  no 
need  to  call  in  strangers  ;  and  inns  for  the  travel- 
ler's rest  are  so  numerous  that  private  families  do 
not  [feel  the  duty  of  hospitality  incumbent  upon 
them." 

"Ah,  California  is  the  place  where  the  latch-string 
is  out,"  mused  Robinson.  "And  the  poorer  the 
shanty,  the  heartier  the  welcome." 

"Certainly.     That's  what  I   have   said.     Hospi- 


368  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

tality  increases  as  the  population  diminishes.  Back- 
woodsmen are  always  hospitable,  because  new  faces 
are  a  rarity  and  welcome." 

"I  am  going  to  stop  at  the  next  invitation  I  get, 
and  stay  there,"  Chester  declared.  "I  can't  go 
much  farther.  This  saddle  is  getting  too  awful 
hard.  I've  a  notion  to  get  the  guide  to  strap  me 
on  that  pack-mule,  like  a  Mazeppa  in  a  theatre. 
Wouldn't  I  make  a  sensation,  galloping  madly  into 
Petropolis  in  that  style?" 

"I,  too,  expect  to  create  a  sensation  in  Petropo- 
lis," said  Eobinson,  "but  in  another  way.  This 
rural  mule  of  mine  stops  to  bray  at  every  sign  of 
civilization,  as  if  he  were  astonished  at  the  world's 
progress ;  and  I  just  know  that  when  we  get  into  the 
heart  of  the  city,  before  some  stately  palace  in  whose 
windows  young  ladies  as  beautiful  as  odalisques  lean 
and  wonder  who  is  that  knightly  personage  riding 
by,  this  ill-bred  beast  of  mine  will  plant  himself  in 
the  street,  point  his  nose  to  high  heaven,  and  hee- 
haw till  the  policeman  comes.  I  know  the  brute  is 
going  to  act  just  that  way.  I  can  feel  him  brooding 
over  it.  And  thus  will  the  knightly  personage  be 
transformed  into  a  statue  of  Don  Quixote,  the  prin- 
cesses of  the  palace  will  giggle,  and  our  pageantry 
will  be  shorn  of  its  glory." 

The  mountain  trail  broadened  into  a  country  road, 
and  from  this,  at  dusk,  they  emerged  upon  the  mag- 
nificent highway  which  leads  away  into  the  mining 
regions  of  the  interior,  and  which,  since  the  con- 
struction of  its  rivals,  the  railways,  must  have, 
proved  a  true  Via  Dolarosa  to  its  stockholders. 


MOUNTAINEERING.  369 

Henceforth  it  was  easy  riding.  They  were  now 
almost  in  the  suburbs  of  Petropolis.  By  the  side 
of  the  little  river,  which  they  were  ascending,  the 
cottages  became  thicker.  Their  occupants,  fair- 
haired  and  red-cheeked  people,  the  descendants  of 
the  first  families  of  this  old  German  colony,  greeted 
them  as  they  passed  by.  The  evening  air  was  rich 
and  heavy  with  the  cool  fragrance  of  the  great  white 
lilies  which  bowed  their  heads  over  the  rushing 
water.  They  came  to  oddly  painted  country  houses, 
seeming  out  of  place  upon  the  streets  of  this  little 
city,  and  caught  glimpses  of  others  that  were  stowed 
away  in  the  romantic  nooks  of  the  adjacent  val- 
leys. The  Emperor's  palace,  a  mass  of  yellow  wall, 
loomed  up  from  its  beautiful  surroundings  of  roses 
and  lawn.  The  wayward  river,  which  they  were 
following,  was  now  speeding  smoothly  along  the 
rock  floors  of  its  artificial  channel,  into  which  the 
engineers  had  constrained  it.  Upon  each  border 
stood  an  umbrageous  row  of  willow  trees,  throwing 
their  shade  half  upon  the  water  and  half  upon  the 
parallel  drives  of  this  avenue  up  which  they  were 
riding  to  their  journey's  end. 

All  Petropolis  was  in  the  windows  or  on  the 
streets.  The  people  had  on  their  holiday  dress  and 
manners.  Carriages  rolled  by,  and  the  riders  in 
them  turned  to  look  with  curious  eyes  upon  the 
strange  and  travel- worn  procession. 

"It  is  evident  that  they  are  not  accustomed  to 
have  tourists  enter  this  resort  by  the  back-door,"  re- 
.  marked  Robinson,  using  every  endeavor  to  present 
24 


370  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

a  respectable  appearance  and  calm  down  the  aston- 
ishment of  his  mule. 

Not  till  the  next  Saturday  did  the  Colonel  and 
Pauline  arrive.  Then  they  came  up  with  the  great 
concourse  of  fathers,  sons,  and  brothers  who  repair 
to  the  mountains  at  the  end  of  the  week  to  escape 
the  mosquitoes  and  enjoy  the  luxury  of  a  Sunday 
with  their  families.  Stacy,  Robinson,  and  Chester 
took  a  horseback  ride  up  to  the  summit  to  meet  the 
new-comers.  They  found  themselves  members  of  a 
large  cavalcade,  gathering  there  for  the  same  pur- 
pose of  friendly  greeting.  As  carriage  after  carriage 
of  the  approaching  procession  toiled  painfully  to  the 
mountain-top  and  rolled  smoothly  away  on  the  down 
grade  of  the  Petropolis  slope,  welcomes  were  given, 
handkerchiefs  waved,  and  kisses  thrown.  "How  is 
the  fever  ?"  asked  the  ladies,  while  the  gentlemen 
inquired  for  the  latest  news  from  the  European  war 
and  coffee  markets.  At  last  came  a  coach  upon 
whose  box  sat  the  Colonel,  with  Pauline  in  his  arms, 
as  usual.  Inside  was  Jaquenetta,  enveloped  in  bun- 
dles and  very  uncomfortable  under  the  impression 
that  two  young  Brazilians  on  the  front  seat  were 
making  facetious  remarks  about  her.  The  reunion 
was  now  complete. 

Rides,  walks,  and  picnics  followed  each  other  in 
rapid  succession  during  the  first  few  days.  Then 
the  interest  began  to  flag  as  the  influence  of  the 
climate  and  the  example  of  their  fellow-creatures 
produced  their  effect.  At  last,  when  Stacy  suggested 
to  Robinson  a  morning  promenade  into  the  surround- 
ing mountains,  she  was  met  by  open  rebellion. 


MOUNTAINEERING.  371 

"  No,  Stacy,  I  won't  go,"  lie  declared.  "  Do  you 
know  that  we  Americans  are  making  ourselves  con- 
spicuous by  this  perpetual  motion  of  ours  ?  People 
are  beginning  to  talk  about  us.  It  is  not  in  good 
taste  to  gad  about  in  the  way  we  do." 

"What  is  in  good  taste,  then?  To  sleep  all 
day?" 

"  Yes,  and  sit  on  these  rustic  benches  under  the 
willow  trees  and  listen  to  the  running  water.  That 
is  considered  the  perfection  of  good  breeding." 

"The  perfection  of  laziness!"  she  replied,  scorn- 
fully. 

"Besides,  it  isn't  healthy.  Haven't  you  heard 
the  Brazilian  maxim  of  hygiene  —  never  to  go  out  to 
walk  when  it  rains  or  when  the  sun  shines,  rain  and 
sun  being  equally  injurious  ? " 

"Then  what  are  parasols  and  water-proofs  made 
for?" 

"  For  errand-girls  who  go  to  market ;  not  for  fine 
ladies  like  you." 

"  But  you  must  go  with  me  this  morning  to  see 
our  favorite  cascatinha.  I  want  to  see  how  it  looks 
after  the  rain." 

'Anywhere  but  there,  Stacy.  Since  I  received 
that  crushing  rebuke  from  Senhor  Indolente  the 
other  day  I  have  sworn  off  from  water-falls  alto- 
gether. I  wouldn't  take  a  five  minutes'  walk  to  see 
Paulo  Aifonso  itself." 

"  What  rebuke  was  that?"  asked  Stacy. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  ?  It  was  the  morning  that  we 
were  going  out  to  the  falls  of  Itamarity.  As  I  was 
drawing  on  my  gloves  I  remarked  to  Senhor  Indo- 


372  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

lente,  in  that  superior  way  which  travellers  adopt 
toward  those  who  stay  at  home,  that  we  were  going 
for  a  morning's  ride  to  the  cataract  in  question.  He 
looked  at  me  in  the  greatest  astonishment.  '  Did  you 
never  see  a  water-fall  before  ? '  he  said.  *  Why,  I 
have  seen  two.'  The  superiority  was  all  on  his  side 
then,  but  I  hastened  to  assure  him  that  I  also  had 
had  some  experience  in  the  cascade  line,  having  seen 
at  least  three  or  four  in  the  course  of  my  short  but 
eventful  life.  His  astonishment  was  then  greater 
than  ever.  4  Then  why  do  you  go  to  this  one  ? '  he 
asked.  'If  you  have  seen  one,  you  have  seen  all. 
One  water-fall  is  just  like  another.  Simply  a  com- 
bination of  water,  rock,  and  trees,  with  more  or 
less  moss  and  ferns.'  I  persisted  in  going,  however, 
as  I  had  made  a  solemn  engagement  to  take  you 
there,  and,  what  was  still  more  important,  I  had 
already  hired  the  horses.  Indolente  shook  his  head 
gravely  when  he  saw  us  depart,  and  from  that  mo- 
ment he  seemed  to  lose  all  faith  in  the  practical 
nature  of  the  Yankees,  for  here  was  one  of  them 
wasting  a  great  deal  of  energy  to  visit  a  cascata 
when  he  had  already  seen  three  or  four.  His  scorn 
pierced  iny  soul,  and  I  will  never  go  to  another." 


XXXI. 

THE  VALLEY  AND  SHADOW. 

Slow  it  behoveth  our  descent  to  be, 

So  that  the  sense  be  first  a  little  used 

To  the  sad  blast,  and  then  we  shall  not  heed  it. 

— DANTE. 

UPON  the  shores  of  the  monotony  of  Petropolis 
there  broke  an  occasional  wave  of  excitement 
from  Rio,  where,  between  the  ceremonies  of  funeral 
and  mass,  the  people  were  preparing  for  the  ap- 
proaching carnival.  Chester  read  the  mystic  an- 
nouncements in  the  daily  papers,  listened  with  eager- 
ness to  every  scrap  of  news  upon  the  subject,  and 
longed  to  be  there.  Robinson,  who  yet  possessed 
some  of  the  restless  and  adventurous  spirit  of  youth, 
shared  in  his  curiosity,  and,  fever  or  no  fever,  would 
have  welcomed  any  excuse  to  go  to  Rio. 

At  last  it  came.  The  Colonel  said  that  his  affairs 
again  required  his  presence  in  the  city  below,  and 
he  thought  he  would  go  down  by  the  morning  stage. 
Chester  and  Robinson,  hearing  this,  exchanged  a 
significant  glance. 

"Can't  I  transact  your  business  for  you ?"  asked 
Robinson.  "I  would  be  only  too  happy  to  save 
you  the  discomforts  of  such  a  trip." 

"With  my  assistance?"  added  Chester. 

"  But  I'm  afraid  to  let  you  young  fellows  go. 

373 


374  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

You  are  too  reckless.     You  would  catch  the  fever 
if  it  tried  to  get  away  from  you.;' 

"Oh,  there's  no  danger,"  Robinson  assured  him. 
"We'll  be  careful.  We'll  go  up  among  the  hills  to 
live." 

"And  never  touch  a  banana,"  said  Chester. 

"I'll  swear  off  from  brandy  punches,"  continued 
Robinson. 

"I'll  take  a  Cockle's  pill  every  day,"  said  Ches- 
ter, not  to  be  outdone. 

"We'll  never  get  into  a  perspiration  and  cool  off 
suddenly." 

"  It's  the  good  that  die  young,"  Chester  went  on. 
"  We'll  be  careful  not  to  be  too  good,  even  if  it  does 
cost  us  a  pang." 

"We'll  never  go  out  in  the  morning  air  without 
first  taking  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  roll." 

Assured  by  these  and  many  other  solemn  prom- 
ises, the  Colonel  finally  consented  that  Robinson  and 
Chester  might  be  his  proxy  to  represent  him  at  Rio. 

Bright  and  early  in  the  morning,  so  early  that 
they  almost  missed  Stacy's  parting  gift  of  flowers, 
they  started  on  their  eventful  journey.  The  moun- 
tain air  was  cool  and  bracing,  and  their  hearts  were 
light.  Arriving  at  the  summit,  they  saw  before  them 
the  grand  spectacle  of  a  rich  forest  sloping  abruptly 
down  into  the  sea  of  fog  below.  At  their  feet  was  a 
medley  of  brushwood  and  vine,  tree  and  creeper,  in 
which  the  vegetation  of  late  summer  was  prominent, 
and  from  whose  prevailing  green  the  flame  of  the 
Flower  of  Lent  shone  gaudily,  with  here  and  there 


THE   VALLEY  AND  SHADOW.  375 

the  hardly  less  brilliant  coloring  of  a  belated  Flower 
of  Christmas. 

Farther  down,  and  the  mountain's  skirt  of  ver- 
dure was  lost  in  the  heavy  mist,  which,  white  as  a 
waste  of  snow,  covered  the  bay  and  valley  of  Rio  de 
Janeiro,  and  with  a  regular  shore-line  of  its  own 
lay  against  the  surrounding  hills.  Like  the  black 
heads  of  serpents,  peering  above  the  water,  stood 
the  lofty  caps  of  the  Sugar  Loaf  and  the  islands  of 
its  vicinity.  Like  the  horizon  of  the  sea  itself  was 
the  meeting  of  the  distant  sky  with  this  second  ocean 
above  the  first,  of  which  it  seemed  to  be  the  unsub- 
stantial ghost. 

"  We'll  need  a  diving-bell  and  an  umbrella  before 
we  get  to  the  bottom  of  this  hill,"  thought  Robinson. 

He  was  mistaken.  The  mist,  like  the  rainbow 
which  rests  upon  it,  flies  before  him  who  approaches 
it. 

One  after  another,  the  carriages  of  the  caravan 
stopped  at  the  summit,  and  brakes  were  applied  for 
the  descent  of  the  mountain,  along  whose  steep  slope 
the  road  tacked  in  its  search  for  an  easy  grade. 
Looking  over  the  parapet,  the  travellers  could  see 
other  carriages  a  half-mile  in  advance,  yet  so  circuit- 
ous was  the  route  that  they  were  scarcely  more  than 
a  stone's  throw  beneath  them.  "Without  dust  in  the 
drought  and  without  mud  in  the  rainy  season,  with 
terraces  above  and  safety-walls  below,  this  stone 
highway  over  the  mountains  and  through  the  wilder- 
ness is  rivalled  by  few  of  the  pleasure-drives  of  the 
world,  and  by  few  works  of  engineering  since  the 
times  of  the  old  Roman  road-makers. 


376  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

It  connected  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  with  a 
short  railway  upon  which  the  travellers  were  whirled 
across  the  valley  to  the  bay,  where  a  trim  little 
steamer  was  waiting  to  carry  them  to  Rio.  Disem- 
barking at  the  wharf  there,  Robinson  worked  his 
nose  in  disgust,  and  remarked  : 

"It's  the  same  familiar  old  smell,  only  worse  and 
more  complicated.  How  sweet  and  fresh  that  air 
was  upon  the  mountains.  Shut  your  mouth  and 
hold  your  nose,  Chester.  Breathe  through  your 
ears,  if  possible.  This  atmosphere  should  be  well 
filtered  before  taken  in.  You  might  as  well  expect 
a  trout  to  nourish  in  a  horse-pond  as  for  a  civilized 
being  to  retain  any  vigor  of  body,  mind,  or  soul  in 
this  air." 

For  a  few  days  Robinson  and  Chester  were  cau- 
tious, but  finally  curiosity  got  the  better  of  discre- 
tion, and  they  decided  to  take  a  walk  through  the 
town,  to  see  how  the  preparations  for  the  three  days 
of  social  chaos  were  progressing.  By  keeping  upon 
the  shady  side  of  the  street  always,  and  suspending 
respiration  in  passing  certain  localities  peculiarly 
pestilential,  they  hoped  to  escape  all  evil  conse- 
quences of  this  temerity. 

They  strolled  into  the  theatres  to  see  the  banners, 
statuary,  foliage,  and  other  decorations  for  the 
masked  balls.  In  the  shops  of  the  artificers  they 
saw  the  gigantic  framework  and  the  hidden  mysteries 
of  the  grotesque  conceptions  designed  for  the  street 
parades.  Once  they  came  to  a  building  painted 
black,  red,  and  green,  in  balmoral  stripes.  It  was 
the  club-house  of  the  Lieutenants  of  the  Devil,  a 


THE   VALLEY  AND  SHADOW.  377 

body  of  young  men,  very  disreputable  it  is  to  be 
feared,  who  contribute  largely  to  the  antics  and  suc- 
cess of  the  carnival.  From  the  open  windows  of 
this  building  a  deafening  tumult  issued.  It  was  the 
mingled  rubadub  and  rataplan  of  numerous  bass  and 
kettle-drums,  pounded  with  a  vigor  of  muscle  rarely 
displayed  in  this  climate,  and  played  without  regard 
to  time,  unison,  or  anything  except  mere  volume  of 
noise.  To  the  boyish  ears  of  Chester  this  was 
amusing.  Robinson,  however,  expressed  no  ap- 
proval. He  was  distracted  and  reticent. 

"He  is  homesick;  he  is  thinking  of  Stacy,"  said 
Chester  to  himself  with  pleasure.  "The  plot 
thickens." 

But  it  was  not  that. 

At  the  next  cafe  they  entered  and  sat  down.  Rob- 
inson  rested  his  forehead  in  his  two  hands  and  was 
lost  in  solemn  thought.  Then,  in  a  half-crazed  way, 
he  reached  around  behind  his  back  and  clutched  at 
something  that  was  not  there ;  he  felt  as  if  the 
demon  of  pain  was  clinging  to  his  shoulders  and 
taking  his  life  away. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Rob  ?  What  makes  you  act 
so  queer?'" 

"There's  no  use  talking,  Chester,  I've  got  it." 

This  remark  may  seem  a  little  indefinite  in  print, 
but  it  was  enough  for  Chester. 

"I  was  afraid  that  that  beer  on  ice  was  not  good 
for  you.  I'll  ran  for  some  castor-oil,"  said  he, 
starting  up  without  delay. 

"Better  get  a  carriage  and  take  me  home,"  said 
Robinson. 


378  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

4 Til  do  both." 

In  a  few  moments  he  returned  and  displayed  a 
good-sized  bottle  of  castor-oil.  If  Chester  knew  any 
one  thing  better  than  another,  it  was  that  this  was 
the  first  step  to  take  in  a  case  of  yellow  fever.  Not 
in  vain  had  he  seen,  upon  the  dressing-tables  of 
young  men,  an  array  of  strange  and  hitherto  un- 
heard-of varieties  of  physic,  outnumbering  by  far 
the  toilet  waters  and  tooth-washes  usually  found  in 
such  places.  JSTot  in  vain  had  he  listened  to  the  con- 
versation of  old  folks  at  the  dinner-table,  as  they 
discussed  the  most  painless  manner  of  taking  a  dose 
of  castor-oil,  and  decided  upon  the  cold-coffee 
method,  in  which  one  layer  of  oil  is  hidden  in  a  cup 
between  two  layers  of  coifee. 

Chester  called  to  the  waiter  for  some  cold  coffee. 
There  was  none  ;  it  was  all  piping  hot,  as,  in  the 
waiter's  opinion,  all  coffee  ought  to  be.  If  desired, 
he  would  put  some  in  the  refrigerator. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  cooling  processes. 

"  You'll  have  to  take  it  straight,  Rob.  Step  back 
into  one  of  these  boxes  out  of  sight,  and  down  with 
about  half  of  this." 

Robinson  shuddered. 

4 'Has  it  come  to  this  ?  "  he  groaned.  "  There  are 
some  indignities  that  are  worse  than  death,  and  for 
a  great  strong  man  to  dose  himself  with  that  juvenile 
stuff  is  one  of  them.  I  won't  do  it." 

He  brushed  the  medicine  away. 

"Yes,  you  will.  Down  with  it !"  repeated  Chester, 
imperatively.  "I  am  responsible  for  you  now,  and 
I  haven't  been  studying  up  the  yellow-fever  treat- 


THE  VALLEY  AND  SHADOW.  379 

ment  for  the  last  six  months  for  nothing.  Down  with 
it,  old  fellow !  It's  an  awful  bad  place  to  be  buried 
out  at  Caju.  You  know  how  it  is.  They  take  you 
up  after  you've  been  there  five  years  and  throw  you 
in  a  heap." 

Robinson  bravely  tilted  the  bottle  and  drank  from 
it.  The  fluid  flowed  lazily  into  his  mouth,  as  if  to 
prolong  his  agony. 

"  That's  enough.     How  did  it  taste  ?" 

"I  didn't  taste  it,"  replied  Robinson  stupidly. 

Chester  shook  his  head  dubiously.  His  patient 
was  either  very  ill  or  very  badly  scared. 

"  How  do  you  feel  now  ?  " 

"Feel?  There's  a  stratum  of  my  brain  across 
here,"  drawing  his  finger  across  his  forehead,  "  that 
is  all  on  fire  with  pain.  It  isn't  an  ache  ;  it  is  pain, 
deadly  pain,  and  that  is  the  way  I  feel  all  up  and 
down  my  back  and  legs.  It's  been  coining  on  me 
all  day,  but,  as  you  say,  it's  probably  that  iced  beer 
that  -hurried  the  business  up.  And  then  I  was  so 
careless  as  to  yawn  once  and  draw  a  full  breath  ;  that 
was  enough  to  kill  a  man." 

"Those  are  the  symptoms,"  replied  Chester,  with 
all  the  gravity  and  solicitude  of  a  family  physician. 
"But  take  it  cool,  Rob.  Remember  that  you've 
always  calculated  that  two  out  of  every  three  recover 
from  the  yellow  fever.  Now,  you  are  only  one. 
"Why,  both  of  us  together  are  only  two." 

"Yes,  but  that  rule  works  both  ways.  One  out 
of  every  three  dies,  you  know ;  and  I  am  one.  I 
don't  want  you  to  think  that  I  am  in  a  funk,  Chester, 
but  I'm  bound  to  confess  that  that  one  chance  for 


380  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Caju  looks  a  good  deal  bigger  than  my  two  chances 
for  the  United  States.  I  never  before  imagined  how 
one  could  seem  bigger  than  two.  Oh,  my  head,  my 
head  !  Put  your  hand  on  it,  Chester." 

"  It's  as  hot  as  that  pavement.  Come,  don't  wait 
any  longer." 

"I  always  said  I  would  go  to  a  hospital  if  the 
fever  struck  me." 

"No  you  don't.  You  are  my  prisoner  now,  and 
I  am  going  to  take  you  right  back  upon  the  hill, 
among  the  English  and  Americans.  We  are  going  to 
forget  all  about  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing,  and  we're  going  to  pull  you  through 
if  it  takes  a  dozen  mustard  plasters.  Driver,  to  No. 
401  Rua  da  Princeza  Imperial !  " 

"For  God's  sake,  don't  tell  the  folks  at  Petrop- 
olis." 

"Trust  me  for  that.     I'll  keep  them  amused." 

The  mists  of  fever  and  pain  were  already  form- 
ing a  cloud  over  Robinson's  eyes;  yet  to  this  day  he 
remembers  how  the  trivial  objects  of  the  route  im- 
pressed him  as  they  were  rapidly  wheeled  along. 
lie  saw  the  crowd  of  wrangling  water-carriers  at  the 
public  beaker ;  the  same  crippled  dog  which  he  had 
stepped  over  so  often  was  still  extended  across  the 
pavement ;  upon  the  walls  of  the  deserted  opera- 
house  there  was  a  flaunting  advertisement  of  the 
bull-fight  for  the  next  Sunday.  "Will  I  ever  see 
these  things  again  ?"  he  wondered. 

Once  —  he  confessed  it  long  afterward — he  was 
seized  by  a  generous  impulse  to  draw  forth  his  watch 
and  give  it  to  Chester,  as  some  recognition  of  the 


TEE   VALLEY  AND  SHADOW.  381 

boy's  kindness  to  him,  and  as  a  memento  by  which 
he  should  be  remembered  after  he  was  dead  and 
gone  ;  but  then  a  sober  second  thought  told  him 
that  he  might  recover,  and  might  live  to  regret  this 
premature  legacy,  and  so  he  desisted. 


XXXII. 
BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE. 

Shall  we  drink  aconite  ?  — MRS.  BROWNING. 

She  covered  me  warm, 
And  she  prayed  to  the  angels 

To  keep  me  from  harm, — 
To  the  queen  of  the  angels 

To  shield  me  from  harm. — POE. 

A  RRIVINGr  at  home,  Chester  assisted  Kobinson 
J-JL-  to  his  room  and  into  bed,  piling  the  blankets 
of  a  winter's  night  over  him,  and  then  he  sat  down 
at  the  head  of  the  couch  and  waited  for  the  doctor 
to  come.  It  might  be  long  to  wait,  for  in  those 
busy  times  the  physician  was  working  twenty  hours 
out  of  the  twenty-four,  and  when  he  did  sleep,  it 
was  in  his  tilbury  or  on  the  street-car,  or,  if  at  home, 
with  the  door-bell  ringing  in  his  ears ;  he  must  be  a 
Napoleon  in  endurance  to  live  through  the  season. 

Chester  walked  from  the  bed  to  the  window,  and 
from  the  window  back  to  the  bed  again.  He  laid 
his  cool  hand  upon  Robinson's  forehead.  It  was 
flushed  and  burning,  and  without  moisture.  Would 
the  doctor  never  come  ? 

At  last  he  arrived,  himself  haggard  from  travel 
and  want  of  sleep. 

"I  fear  it's  going  hard  with^him,"  said  he,  after 
giving  Robinson  an  inspection.  "He  is  a  strong, 

"    382 


BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE.  383 

full-blooded  man,  and  that  redness  about  the  eyes 
looks  ominous." 

He  commended  Chester's  forethought.  His  ac- 
tion was  all  that  could  be  desired.  In  addition  to 
the  boy's  precautions  the  doctor  prescribed  the  usual 
preparation  of  aconite,  gave  some  general  directions, 
spoke  a  few  hopeful  words  to  the  patient,  and  de- 
parted. But  first  he  asked  how  many  thicknesses 
of  covering  there  were  on  him, 

"Three,"  replied  Chester. 

"Give  him  another  blanket.  It's  always  best  to 
be  on  the  safe  side." 

The  young  men  of  the  house  began  to  drop  in,  in 
order  to  volunteer  their  services  for  the  watches 
through  the  night.  The  first  one  leisurely  picked 
his  teeth — it  was  after  dinner — felt  of  Robinson's 
forehead,  and  said  : 

"It  is  pretty  dry.  You'd  better  put  on  another 
blanket." 

"He  has  four  now,  and  the  thermometer  outside 
here  is  at  ninety-one." 

"  Better  do  it.  It's  always  best  to  be  on  the  safe 
side." 

In  a  few  moments  another  entered  and  said : 

"Keep  him  well  covered  up.  You'd  better  give 
him  another  blanket  while  you're  at  it." 

"  But  there  are  five  on  him  already." 

"It  can't  do  any  harm,  and  it's  always  best  to  be 
on  the  safe  side." 

A  third  adviser  soon  appeared. 

"You've  got  to  start  that  perspiration,"  he  said. 
"  Spread  another  blanket  over  him." 


384  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"But  they're  six  deep  now,"  protested  Chester. 

"It's  always  best  to  be  on  the  safe — " 

Then  Robinson  spoke  up,  like  a  mummy  from 
his  wrappings,  and  said : 

"  Is  this  infernal  nonsense  ever  going  to  stop  ?" 

At  these  words  they  gathered  around  him,  and 
one  or  two  sat  down  upon  the  edge  of  the  bed,  to 
hold  the  blankets  down,  they  said.  One  of  them, 
who  had  taken  a  little  too  much  wine  at  dinner,  in- 
dulged in  reminiscences. 

"Two  years  ago,"  said  he,  "when  the  fever  was 
so  bad,  I  found  myself  feeling  just  as  you  do,  one 
morning,  and  I  scooted  right  off  to  the  mountains. 
If  I  hadn't  done  it,  I  would  be  a  dead  man  to-day, 
sure.  It's  a  pity  you  ever  came  down  here.  But 
then,  you  haven't  got  the  yellow  fever  —  Lord,  no, 
old  fellow;  not  the  first  symptom  of  it.  We'll  have 
you  out  again  to-morrow  or  next  day,  livelier  than 
ever." 

Then  they,  like  veterans  fighting  their  battles 
over  again,  rehearsed  the  ravages  of  the  yellow  fever 
in  other  years.  They  told  each  other  of  the  entire 
family  that  perished  within  a  week  ;  of  the  business 
house  whose  doors  were  closed  because  its  people 
were  all  dead;  of  the  ship  lying  idle  in  the  harbor 
because  its  crew  were  no  more;  of  the  young  woman 
who  was  so  violent  on  the  approach  of  death  that 
she  had  to  be  locked  alone  in  a  room  whose  floor 
was  carpeted  with  mattresses;  of  the  young  man 
who,  having  r"ead  his  death-warrant  in  the  doctor's 
face,  calmly  called  for  his  papers,  and  sorted  out 
and  burned  such  letters  of  his  correspondence  as  he 


'     A 

BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE.  385 

wished  to  die  with  him;  and  the  thousand  and  one 
other  stories  which  are  current  in  Rio,  and  which 
are  brought  up  at  the  dinner-table,  at  the  grave,  and 
even,  as  in  this  case,  at  the  patient's  bedside.  It 
was  not  a  judicious  subject  of  conversation,  perhaps, 
but  then  they  did  not  fail  to  acquit  their  consciences 
by  assuring  Robinson  that  he  had  not  a  shadow  of  a 
symptom  of  this  disease. 

"What  does  the  doctor  say  is  the  matter  with 
me  ?"  he  found  strength  to  ask. 

"  It's  only  a  little  touch  of  the  prevailing  fever." 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 
"  Why,  the  fever  that's  going  around." 
Robinson  closed  his  eyes  and  relapsed  into  his 
former  stupor.     But  he  still  had  life  enough  to  hear 
one  of  his  friends  say  to  another,  in  low  tones : 

"  That  reminds  me  of  the  evasive  language  of  the 
life,  insurance  agent.  He  never  speaks  of  a  person's 
dying,  but  refers  to  the  contingency  of  his  being 
'taken  away.'  It  sounds  better." 

The  patient  changed  but  little  through  the  night, 
but  that  little  was  for  the  worse.     The  young  men 
of  the  house  took  turns  in  sitting  by  his  side.     To 
while  away  the  hours  they  read  Balzac  and  Boc- 
caccio, stray  volumes  of  which  books  were  at  that 
time  passing  around.     As  the  man  on  vigil  turned 
the  leaves  he  laughed  quietly  to  himself.    Unusually 
rich  passages  were  marked  for  the  benefit  of  the 
next   watch.     Once   his   chuckle   was   louder   than 
usual,  and  he  could  not  refrain  from  calling  out : 
"I  say,  Robinson,  here's  something  pretty  good. " 
He  read  the  extract  aloud,  but  no  applause  re- 
25 


386  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

warded  him.  The  sick  man  writhed  under  his 
blankets  in  disgust.  He  wondered  that  he  could 
ever  have  read  those  books  and  smiled.  He  won- 
dered if  such  stuff  would  ever  please  him  again,  if 
he  should  get  well.  It  is  an  established  fact  that 
the  tastes  of  the  moribund  are  not  of  the  earth, 
earthy. 

No,  the  conduct  of  this  watcher  was  not  heart- 
less and  inhuman.  He  was  noble  and  self-sacrific- 
ing, for  he  gave  up  his  comfort  and  his  sleep  and 
exposed  his  life  freely  to  disease,  though  he  must 
take  his  light  literature  along  with  him.  In  times 
like  these  it  is  too  much  to  expect  any  person  to  feel 
a  great  pang  of  sorrow  over  an  individual  sick-bed. 
The  human  heart  can  sympathize  only  so  much,  and 
when  its  sympathies  must  be  distributed  over  the 
community,  the  individual  gets  small  share.  It  is 
the  rarity  of  death  which  makes  it  impressive. 
After  all,  to  be  philosophical,  what  is  one  man's  life 
more  or  less,  when  so  many  are  dying  ?  and  when 
half  of  your  friends  die  and  half  of  them  live,  why 
is  it  worth  the  turn  of  a  copper  whether  you  go  or 
stay?  This  feeling  accounts  largely  for  the  non- 
chalance displayed  in  the  city  of  pestilence  and  on 
the  field  of  battle. 

"  Here's  to  the  dead  already, 
Hurrah  for  the  next  that  dies ! " 

sang  the  British  officer  in  the  depths  of  the  prison- 
pen.  The  tales  of  the  Decameron  were  told  by 
people  in  imminent  danger  from  the  plague. 
"Who's  next?"  abruptly  said  a  gentleman  on  his 
way  home  from  the  cemetery  in  Rio.  "Is  the 


BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE.  387 

grave  a  barber's  chair,  that  you  should  ask  such  a 
question  ?  "  was  the  reply. 

" A  very  ludicrous  thought  has  just  occurred  to 
me,"  said  another,  on  an  occasion  similar  to  the 
above.  "There's  Larkin,  he  was  buried  to-day,  and 
Amesbury  yesterday.  They  were  great  cronies, 
you  know,  equal  to  Orestes  and  Pylades.  Now, 
Larkin  did  not  know  that  his  friend  was  dead  or 
even  seriously  ill ;  they  did  not  dare  to  tell  him. 
Won't  he  be  astonished  when  he  gets  over  there, 
somewhere  beyond  the  Styx,  where  the  asphodel 
grows,  and  finds  Amesbury  in  ahead  of  him  ?  4  Why, 
bless  me,  chum,'  I  imagine  I  hear  him  say,  'how 
you  surprise  me  !  When  did  you  come  ? ' ' 

All  of  this  seemed  especially  strange  and  sad  to 
Chester,  who,  what  other  attendants  might  come  and 
go,  was  steadfast  in  his  presence  through  that  long 
first  night.  Once  he  leaned  out  of  the  open  window 
and  wondered  to  himself  why  it  was  that  the  world 
was  so  cruel  and  thoughtless.  Why,  on  this  night 
of  all  nights,  when  his  friend  was  perhaps  dying, 
should  the  glittering  and  discordant  city  at  his  feet 
continue  its  mad  carousals  ?  What  right  had  half 
of  the  world  to  be  merry  when  the  other  half  was 
in  mourning? 

Over  all  was  the  pale  serenity  of  the  moonlit  sum- 
mer sky  ;  below  was  a  sabbat  of  noise  and  confu- 
sion. A  band  of  music,  not  yet  fully  in  accord,  was 
practising  for  the  carnival  to  come.  In  another 
quarter  the  stertorous  panting  of  a  great  brass  horn 
was  heard  ;  this,  with  a  solitary  flute,  whose  feeble 
notes  could  scarcely  be  heard,  constituted  tho 


388  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

orchestra  of  a  negro  ball,  in  a  little  shanty  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  where,  in  all  sobriety,  with  never  a 
smile  on  their  faces  and  never  a  word  on  their  lips, 
four  African  couples  were  patiently  dancing  the 
night  away.  Chester  had  often  seen  them,  for  they 
gathered  periodically  at  that  place  to  practise  their 
laborious  merry-making.  He  wondered  if  they 
really  enjoyed  this  solemn  exercise,  from  which  as 
from  some  more  pretentious  entertainments,  the 
dignity  crowded  out  all  of  the  fun  ;  he  wondered  if 
the  man  at  the  horn  was  not  tired,  and  why  the 
neighbors  did  not  charitably  kill  him  and  put  him 
out  of  his  misery. 

At  eleven  o'clock  a  troubadour  of  great  endur- 
ance, seated  safely  in  his  own  back  yard,  began  to 
rehearse  a  ditty  which  lasted  until  three  in  the 
morning.  It  was  a  song  of  only  two  lines  in  length,  , 
but  it  was  repeated  a  hundred  times  at  least ;  it  is 
astonishing  how  much  self-gratification  a  low-class 
Brazilian  can  derive  from  a  simple  couplet  of  verses 
and  a  simple  strain  of  music,  sung  until  sleep  or 
daylight  overtakes  him.  What  was  peculiarly  ag- 
gravating in  this  melody  was  its  decrescendo  die- 
away  ending,  which  encouraged  the  illusive  hope 
that  each  repetition  was  its  last. 

At  half-past  one  a  shirted  figure,  exasperated 
beyond  all  endurance,  appeared  at  the  window  over 
Chester's  head. 

"Cola  a  l)OGd!  Shut  your  mouth!"  he  yelled  to 
this  indefatigable  disturber  of  the  public  repose. 

Then  there  came  the  rattle  of  an  oyster-can  as  it 
rolled  down  the  rocky  cliff,  and  the  jingle  of  broken 


BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE.  380 

glass  from  the  wine-bottle  which  followed  after.  This 
emphatic  protest  produced  a  transient  respite,  but  it 
was  not  long  before  the  voice  began  again  with  re- 
newed vigor;  its  owner  had  probably  been  in  for 
refreshment. 

And  the  dogs  —  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  never  be- 
fore been  so  noisy  and  numerous.  They  barked  at 
the  moon,  at  the  shadows,  at  the  policemen,  and  at 
•each  other.  They  barked  for  hate,  for  love,  for  de- 
sire, for  their  own  amusement;  had  they  not  been 
quietly  asleep  upon  the  sidewalk  all  day,  and  there- 
fore had  they  not  a  right  to  their  nocturnal  com- 
munions? They  barked  singly  and  by  groups,  while 
ever  and  anon  there  was  a  snarl  and  turbulence 
of  sound,  telling  of  a  conflict  in  which  great  num- 
bers were  implicated.  Whenever  two  dogs  begin  a 
fight  in  Rio  —  an  event  which  is  of  frequent  occur- 
rence —  all  others  within  hearing  distance  gather  to 
this  spot,  on  the  full  run,  and  with  their  jaws  open. 
•As  they  approach  they  take  in  the  situation  at  a 
glance,  see  which  is  the  under  and  weaker  dog,  and 
hasten  to  tear  him  to  pieces  in  their  wrath.  And,  by 
the  way,  the  policeman  bears  a  wonderful  resem- 
blance to  the  dogs  in  this  respect. 

So  wore  the  night  away.  The  moon  went  down. 
The  small  hours  of  morning,  so  fatal  to  fever  pa- 
tients, came  and  passed.  Robinson's  condition  be- 
gan to  change.  He  became  restless,  shook  off  his 
stupor,  and  tried  to  do  the  same  with  his  blankets. 
He  evinced  an  inclination  to  talk,  but  instead  of  a 
lucid  conversation  it  was  the  senseless  chatter  of 
delirium. 


390  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

When  the  doctor  came  again,  he  saw  Chester's 
careworn  look,  and  divined  the  truth  that  he  had 
been  up  all  night.  He  reproved  him  sharply,  but 
the  boy  shook  his  head  and  answered  : 

"  I  am  responsible  for  him  now." 

"  I  wish  you  were  in  Petropolis.  Does  your  fam- 
ily know  of  this  affair?" 

"No,  indeed;  nor  they  won't.  I  wrote  them  a 
letter  last  night  to  fool  them.  I  didn't  know  I  could 
write  such  a  funny  letter." 

"  You  don't  look  like  a  master  of  humorous  liter- 
ature just  at  present." 

"  Doctor,  did  you  ever  hear  of  the  clown  who 
played  in  the  pantomime  when  his  little  child  was 
lying  dead  at  home?  The  people  had  never  seen 
him  so  amusing  as  he  was  then.  Well,  that  was  the 
way  with  me  last  night." 

uBut  I  tell  you  that  you  must  sleep  to-night," 
said  the  physician,  with  the  authority  of  his  profes- 
sion. "And  you  must  get  out  of  this  room  and  for- 
get it  for  a  few  hours  to-day.  There  are  plenty  of 
others  to  take  your  place.  If  you  don't,  you  will 
be  the  next  one  down." 

Then  Chester  forgot  that  he  had  been  playing  the 
man,  and  his  boy's  nature  asserted  itself  again. 

"What  if  I  do  get  it?"  he  asked.  "Yellow 
fever  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,  is  it  ?  And  when 
I  go  back  to  New  York  I  can  tell  those  fellows  some- 
thing that  will  astonish  them.  There's  Bouncer 
Brown,  and  Ed  Winslow,  and  the  others ;  they  never 
had  anything  more  respectable  than  the  mumps  and 
such  baby  complaints.  Oh,  I  guess  they'll  envy  me." 


BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE.  391 

The  doctor  sighed  over  this  case  of  mistaken  am- 
bition, and  resumed  his  writing. 

"Richard,"  called  out  Robinson,  addressing  some 
imaginary  friend  or  servant,  "Richard,  who  worked 
those  shadow-pictures  in  this  canopy  ?  " 

Chester  went  to  him.  He  was  gazing  up  at  the 
drapery  of  mosquito  netting  which  fell  around  him. 

"Keep  quiet,  Rob.  There  are  no  pictures  there; 
only  some  rough  excuses  for  roses  in  the  lace." 

"Yes,  there  are  pictures,  I  tell  you.  Ah,  what  a 
beautiful  tracery !  •  It  must  have  been  a  genius  who 
designed  it.  I  wonder  that  I  never  noticed  it  before. 
But  then,  I  never  was  a  genius  before  to-day,  and  it 
takes  genius  to  —  to — it  takes — They  are  skating 
there,  don't  you  see  ?  And  around  the  edge  of  the 
pond  there  is  a  road  where  a  couple  are  sleigh-riding. 
I  wonder  who  that  is  with  me  in  the  sleigh." 

"  Is  it  Stacy  ?  "  asked  Chester. 

"Yes,  it's  Stacy.  Where  is  Stacy?  Tell  her  to 
come  here.  I  love  Stacy.  I  want  her  to  lay  her 
hand  on  my  head.  It  is  so  cool  and  soft  and  refresh- 
ing. It  is  like  a  flower.  But  the  flowers  are  all 
gone  now,  and  the  meadows  are  all  covered  with 
snow.  No,  the  meadows  have  vanished,  and  there 
are  the  mountains.  It  looks  like  the  Sierras.  It 
must  be  awful  cold  there  in  winter.  See,  even  the 
water-fall  is  frozen  up,  and  the  spray  is  frozen  on 
the  pine-trees,  and  there  is  an  overhanging  cliff  with 
frost  on  the  rocks,  and  icicles  hanging  down.  Let 
me  get  one,"  and  he  drew  his  faded  hand  from  un- 
derneath the  clothing. 

"Put  that  hand  back  !  "  said  Chester,  sternly. 


392  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

Robinson  cowered  and  obeyed,  moaning  piteously 
the  while. 

"  His  mind  runs  to  cold  weather,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  Give  him  all  the  ice  he  wants." 

"  I  do.  He  takes  more  than  a  cream  freezer.  It 
melts  in  his  mouth  as  if  it  was  a  stove-oven.  It 
seems  as  if  he  can't  get  enough.  Crazy  as  he  is,  I 
think  he  knows  that  it  comes  from  home." 

"Yes,  it  comes  from  home,"  muttered  Robinson. 
"It  comes  from  Maine.  I  know.  I  was  there. 
There  is  the  map  of  Maine,"  added  he,  looking  at  a 
certain  portion  of  the  curtain.  "It  is  bounded  on 
the  north  by  ISTew  Jersey  —  no,  it's  Spain,  where 
you  see  the  man  with  the  dancing-bear.  Why  don't 
those  two  men  finish  their  duel  and  be  done  with  it  ? 
One  has  been  sticking  the  other  with  his  sword  and 
the  other  has  been  falling  over  backward  ever  since 
yesterday  morning.  Why  don't  he  die  ?  Why  don't 
he  die?  Why  —  don't  —  he  —  die?  Oh,  it  makes 
me  so  nervous." 

"Withdraw  those  curtains,  or  he  will  wear  his 
brain  out  with  raving,"  was  the  doctor's  advice. 

Chester  did  so,  and  the  sick  man's  eye  rested  on 
the  blank  white  wall  of  the  room.  His  brow  con- 
tracted with  a  frown  of  displeasure. 

"I  must  have  that  wall  papered  over  again,"  he 
resumed.  "  Everything  is  crooked  there  now.  The 
shepherd  boy's  nose  is  growing  out  of  his  chin,  and 
the  rose  is  growing  on  the  orange-tree,  and  the 
priest's  plug  hat  is  over  one  ear.  It's  all  because 
the  paper-hanger  hadn't  a  mathematical  eye.  Hear 
me,  ye  walls!"  he  cried?  throwing  his  blankets 


BLANKETS  AND  ACONITE.  393 

aside  and  gesticulating  like  a  school-boy.  "Hear 
me,  ye  walls !  Death,  death,  DEATH  to  the  paper- 
hanger  that  hath  not  a  mathematical  eye  !  " 

"  He  is  getting  violent,"  said  the  doctor.  "  You 
will  have  to  call  in  a  stronger  arm  than  yours  to 
hold  him  down." 


XXXIII. 
THE  BOY  NURSE. 

And  none  of  you  will  bid  the  winter  come 

And  thrust  his  icy  fingers  in  my  maw, 

Nor  let  my  kingdom's  rivers  take  their  course 

Through  my  burned  bosom,  nor  entreat  the  north 

To  make  his  bleak  winds  kiss  my  parched  lips 

And  comfort  me  with  cold.     I  do  not  ask  you  much, 

I  beg  cold  comfort;  and  you  are  so  strait 

And  so  ungrateful,  you  deny  me  that. 

—SHAKESPEARE. 

I  have  it  bad,  Chester?" 
' '  First-cla— yes ;  that  is,  dreadful  bad.  The 
landlord  was  down  town  pricing  some  coffins;  or,  at 
least,  he  said  it  was  about  time  to  do  so.  And  do 
you  know,  Rob,  I've  learned  something  awful  since 
you've  been  sick.  They  keep  gorgeous  coffins  for 
rent  here  in  Brazil,  and  if  the  corpse — or  his  friends 
— want  to  put  on  style,  they  carry  him  to  the  grave 
in  one  of  these,  and  then  they  bury  him  in  an  ordi- 
nary box  and  bring  the  gilt-edged  affair  back  to  the 
undertaker.  How  is  that  for  sham  ?  But  we  weren't 
going  to  give  you  a  second-hand  funeral,"  added 
Chester,  apologetically. 

"Everything  seems  so  strange  and  new  to  me," 
said  E-obinson,  in  a  weak  voice.  "How  kind  you 
have  been  to  me,  Chester  !" 

"Oh,  I'm  only  one  out  of  half  a  dozen.    All  the  fel- 


THE  BOY  NURSE.  395 

lows  chipped  in  cheerfully,  and  helped  to  sit  down 
on  you  when  you  would  persist  in  kicking  the  blan- 
kets off  and  getting  up  to  put  your  duster  on ;  you 
had  some  business  up  at  Albany,  you  said." 

"  How  kind  they  have  been  to  me.  I  will  never 
forget  it.  Tell  me  who  they  are.  I  will  have  them 
down  to  the  Globo  for  dinner  about  next  week." 

"Oh,  everybody,  Americans  and  English  alike; 
and  there's  Laddie  MacLair,  he  is  Scotch,  and  The 
Flapper  is  Irish.  That  Gregory  is  an  ingenious  chap. 
He's  got  an  idea  for  an  affair  which  he  calls  the 
Perspiration  Promoter,  and  he's  just  been  aching  to 
get  you  into  it.  He  wanted  to  set  you  up  in  a  chair 
and  hang  the  blankets  around  you  and  build  a  fire 
under  you,  like  you  was  a  balky  horse  or  a  Fox's 
martyr. ' ' 

"The  bloodthirsty  Englishman  !"  groaned  Robin- 
son. "It  was  his  ancestors  that  shot  the  poor 
Sepoy  from  the  cannon's  mouth." 

c '  But  when  it  came  to  the  crisis,  Gregory  was 
right  at  home.  He  has  had  the  yellow  fever  twice 
himself,  and  it  doesn't  scare  him  much.  When  you 
were  going  it  wild,  and  striking  out  from  both  shoul- 
ders, and  tearing  the  mustard  plasters  off  as  fast  as 
we  could  put  them  on,  and  when  we  were  all  scared 
and  weeping,  and  wondering  who  would  get  your 
fish-rod  and  dressing-case,  Gregory  took  hold  of 
you  and  stroked  you  down  as  if  you  were  a  little 
baby.  You  had  to  surrender,  even  if  he  was  an 
Englishman." 

"But  I  am  well  now.     I  can  throw  off  these  things 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 


"No,  sir;  not  a  bit  of  it.  The  back-bone  of  your 
fever  is  broken,  but  there  is  a  little  left  yet." 

"I  don't  believe  it.  I  am  steaming  to  death  in 
here.  I  am  coming  out." 

He  produced  a  hand  from  beneath  the  coverings. 
It  was  white  and  limp  and  without  strength. 

"There  is  what  is  left  of  me,"  he  said,  reproach- 
fully. 

"Put  that  back,  or  I  won't  be  responsible  for 
you,"  commanded  Chester.  "  I  know  all  about  yel- 
low fever  now.  It's  a  deceitful  game.  It  has  a 
grand  tussle  with  you  at  first  and  tries  to  kill  you  by 
main  strength,  and  if  it  can't  do  that  it  goes  off 
and  sits  down  and  waits  its  chance.  Then  you  get 
bold,  just  as  you  are  now,  and  you  get  up  and  foolish 
around.  You  catch  cold,  the  fever  comes  back  and 
pounces  on  you  again,  and  you  die  in  about  three 
hours  and  twenty  minutes." 

"Nonsense.  Some  old  woman  has  been  talking 
to  you.  I  tell  you  I'm  as  well  as  ever  I  was.  I 
want  to  get  up  and  get  into  my  summer  clothes 
again." 

Chester  tried  another  kind  of  argument.  He 
went  to  the  window  and  looked  out,  and  as  he  did 
so  he  casually  remarked: 

"I  see  they  are  burying  that  man  Buckingham 
this  afternoon.  You  knew  him  1  He  lived  across 
the  way  there,  and  was  taken  down  just  before 
you." 

"  I  didn't  know  he  was  dead." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  died  three  o'clock  this  morning.  Is  to 
be  buried  at  five  this  afternoon." 


THE  BOY  NURSE.  397 

' '  But  they  were  having  a  good  time  over  there 
last  night.  I  heard  the  piano  from  here." 

u  Just  so.  They  were  celebrating  his  recovery. 
As  you  say,  the  music  was  a-going  and  the  wine  it 
was  a-flowing.  But  the  celebration  was  a  little  pre- 
mature. He  got  up  too  soon." 

From  the  corner  of  his  eye  Chester  saw  Robinson 
subside  under  the  blankets  like  a  turtle  into  his 
shell.  The  boy  chuckled  to  himself. 

"  I  thought  that  would  fetch  him.  They  told  me 
not  to  tell  him  about  Buckingham  ;  it  might  scare 
him.  That's  just  what  he  needs.  After  this  I'll 
hunt  through  the  papers  to  find  a  new  dead  man 
every  day." 

The  boy  was  proud  of  his  success. 

"  Wonder  if  I  hadn't  better  make  medicine  my 
profession  ? "  he  thought. 

"  Chester,"  said  Robinson,  "I  wish  you  would 
draw  the  covering  over  my  shoulder.  I  think  it  is 
exposed  to  the  air." 

A  plenteous  dew  of  perspiration  began  to  form 
again  on  the  sick  man's  forehead. 

uOh,  Chester,"  he  moaned,  "you  can't  imagine 
how  mean  I  feel  down  in  this  steaming  mess." 

"  I'll  bet  it  isn't  half  so  disagreeable  as  one  of 
those  Brazilian  coffins,  the  same  shape  all  the  way 
down,  as  if  a  man's  feet  were  as  broad  as  his  shoul- 
ders." 

"  Isn't  it  about  time  for  some  more  of  that  aconite  ? 
Don't  forget  the  hour.  And  while  you  are  about 
it,  just  flirt  that  aspergill  of  carbolic  acid  around  the 
room  again.  Here,  let  me  smell  of  it.  Oh,  the  de- 


398  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

licious  stuff! "  said  he,  inhaling  a  long  draught.  "  It 
seems  to  be  just  what  I  need.  It  is  better  than 
water  to  a  thirsty  man.  It  seems  to  clear  the  fever 
out  of  my  system,  and  to  refresh  me  more  than  wine 
or  the  smell  of  the  pine-woods.  And  to  think  that  I 
ever  should  have  despised  it  for  an  unpleasant 
odor  !" 

"There's  one  man  who  doesn't  share  your  fond- 
ness for  it,  and  that  is  Park  Taylor.  Oh,  it's  an 
awful  good  joke.  Are  you  strong  enough  to  hear 
it  now  ? " 

"Anything  to  make  me  forget  my  misery." 
"You  see,  Taylor  keeps  an  atomizer  of  perfume 
on  his  toilet-stand,  and  a  few  days  ago  when  I  was 
prowling  around  the  house  I  found  it  and  thought  I 
would  make  it  useful.  There  was  about  a  spoonful 
of  oriza-flowers  in  it  then,  and  I  filled  it  up  with 
carbolic  acid  and  brought  it  down  here  to  sprinkle 
your  hair  and  pillow  with,  and  to  make  the  mosqui- 
toes sneeze,  and  to  have  fun  with  it  generally.  Yes- 
terday that  darky  Pedro  was  in  here  fixing  the 
room,  and  he  found  this  bottle,  and  knew  it  be- 
longed to  Taylor,  and  so  he  took  it  back.  In  the 
evening  Taylor  came  home  again,  half  tight  as 
usual,  and  after  dinner  he  concluded  to  polish  up 
and  make  the  rounds  of  the  town.  He's  great  on 
perfumery,  you  know,  and  before  he  started  he  took 
his  oriza  bottle  and  gave  his  beard  and  hair  and  the 
lapel  of  his  coat  a  good  sprinkling.  Of  course  he 
made  a  sensation  wherever  he  went.  He  said  he 
smelled  carbolic  acid  in  the  street-car  and  along 
the  pavement  and  everywhere  else ;  but  he  didn't 


THE  BOY  NURSE.  399 

pay  much  attention  to  it,  except  to  suppose  it  was  a 
sanitary  regulation  of  the  city.  When  he  got  to 
the  club,  one  of  the  fellows  asked  him  if  he  was  dis- 
infecting his  character,  and  another  told  him  he  had 
better  skip  to  Friburgo  without  farther  delay ;  he 
probably  wouldn't  keep  much  longer  in  this  climate. 
He  thought  that  perhaps  these  were  good  jokes,  but 
as  he  had  been  drinking  a  little  he  couldn't  exactly 
see  the  point  to  them.  After  that,  he  went  to  call 
on  a  young  lady;  but  what  happened  there  he  will 
never  tell  us.  We  only  know  that  he  was  dreadful 
anxious  to  kill  somebody  when  he  came  home." 

"Chester,"  said  Robinson,  in  feeble  tones,  "I 
wish  you  would  do  me  a  favor.  I  want  you  to  hunt 
up  my  revolver  and  load  it  and  shoot  the  first  man 
who  comes  in  to  ask  me  how  I  feel.  I  feel  bad,  of 
course.  They  might  know  that  without  asking." 

"I'll  write  a  bulletin  every  hour  and  post  it  up 
outside,  just  as  they  did  when  the  Princess  was 
sick,"  Chester  assured  him.  "I'll  get  up  the  first 
one  now,  and  say  that  you  are  well  enough  to  growl 
again  ;  a  very  favorable  symptom. " 

"Do  so.  But  have  you  written  to  Petropolis 
yet?" 

"Almost  every  day." 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"  Everything  but  the  truth.  But  I  can't  keep  this 
thing  up  much  longer.  I  have  told  so  many  lies 
that  it  is  giving  me  the  nightmare." 

"  What  did  you  tell  them  ?  " 

"All  about  the  carnival  and  the  adventures  we  had 
there." 


400  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

"Did  you  go?" 

"No,  but  I  read  about  it  in  the  papers,  and  got 
the  other  fellows  to  tell  me  about  it,  and  imagined 
the  rest.  I  described  the  processions  and  the  masked 
ball  at  the  opera-house.  I  said  we  bought  three 
dozen  bisnagas  apiece,  and  went  around  the  streets 
squirting  everybody  in  the  eye  with  Florida  water. 
And,  what  do  you  think?  Stacy  wrote  me  that  there 
was  a  pretty  girl  up  there  who  squirted  a  bisnaga  in 
the  Emperor's  face,  and  he  smiled  and  took  it  grace- 
fully. Stacy  says  that  all  men  are  equal  before  the 
bisnaga — " 

"And  the  pretty  girls,"  added  Robinson.  It  was 
evident  that  his  health  was  improving. 

"You've  got  to  help  me  get  up  to-day's  letter," 
said  Chester.  "Tell  me  some  startling  adventure. 
And  they're  awful  anxious  to  know  why  you  don't 
write.  What  shall  I  say  't  " 

"Don't  tell  the  truth  yet.  They  will  be  down 
here  to  see  me  if  you  do.  Make  up  some  reasonable 
excuse." 

"But  I  can't.  I'm  exhausted.  It's  as  hard  for 
me  to  tell  a  lie  as  it  is  for  some  persons  to  tell  the 
truth." 

Robinson  mused  awhile. 

"  Say  that  we  went  down  town  together,  and  went 
into  a  masquerade  ball,  and  I  got  into  trouble." 

"That  sounds  too  suspicious." 

"Oh,  say  anything.  Say  the  roof  caved  in.  Say 
I  haven't  got  the  flour  washed  out  of  my  hair  yet. 
Say  there  was  a  Damon  and  Pythias  there,  and  they 


THE  BOY  NURSE.  401 

got  into  a  row —  and  one  of  them  accidentally  —  hit 
me  with  his  club  —  and  bruised — my  thumb." 

Robinson  fell  back  exhausted. 

' '  O  Chester,  Chester  !  Don't  set  me  to  invent- 
ing lies  the  moment  I'm  rescued  from  the  jaws  of 
death.  Say  anything  you  please." 

After  much  deliberation  and  chewing  of  his  pen- 
holder, Chester  produced  the  following  communica- 
tion to  his  family  : 

''DEAK  FOLKS  :  I  suppose  I  have  got  to  write  to 
you  again  to-day  but  I  hate  to  take  the  time  for  it  be- 
cause there's  fun  here  till  you  can't  rest.  I  took  a 
walk  last  night  with  Rob  and  there  was  lots  of  little 
red  devils  about  my  size  on  the  street  with  long 
tails.  One  of  them  squawked  a  plam-leaf  horn  in 
my  ear  and  I  accidently  trod  on  his  tail.  He  got 
mad  and  jerked  off  his  red  mask  and  tied  his  tail 
around  his  waste  and  was  a  going  to  thrash  me  but 
I  told  him  I  guess  he  had  better  not  and  so  he 
thought  he  wouldent.  As  we  were  going  down  the 
Ouvidor  some  folks  in  the  window  poured  flour 
down  on  us  till  we  looked  like  a  snow-storm.  Then 
a  trecherous  woman  away  up  on  the  third  floor  of 
the  Hotel  Ravot  hung  a  paper  bag  full  of  water 
out  of  the  window  and  when  I  got  exactly  under 
she  let  it  drop.  It  hit  me  fair  on  the  head  and 
bursted  like  a  boom-shell  and  spoiled  my  hat  and 
made  the  flour  all  dough.  I  had  to  come  home  bare- 
headed in  the  hot  sun  and  that  baked  the  dough  and 
I  could  have  sold  my  head  for  a  loaf  of  bread  if  I 
had  wanted  too.  Father  I  wish  you  would  send  me 
ten  milreis  to  get  a  new  hat  with.  I  don't  care 
26 


402  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

how  I  look  for  myself  for  I  am  not  proud  but  when 
I  go  through  the  city  the  folks  all  come  to  the  door 
and  say  there  goes  Colonel  Smith's  son.  You  keep 
asking  me  why  Rob  don't  write.  I  didn't  want  to 
tell  you  the  truth  before  because  I  was  in  hopes 
he  would  get  over  it.  When  we  were  at  the 
mask  ball  he  got  acquainted  with  a  pretty  girl  and 
now  he  don't  have  any  time  for  writing  any  letters 
accept  to  her.  He  goes  to  see  her  every  day.  She 
is  awful  pretty  though  if  I  am  a  judge  and  I  guess  I 
am.  I  expect  he  will  bring  her  with  him  to  Petero- 
polis  when  we  come  next  week  and  then  you  can 
see  for  yourself.  My  sheet  of  paper  is  full  and  I 
must  stop.  Kisses  to  Polly. 

Your  son  and  brother,        CHESTER  SMITH." 

Chester  read  this  letter  over  so  as  to  correct  any 
mistakes  into  which  his  pen  might  have  inadvert- 
ently fallen,  and  his  eyes  glistened  with  satisfaction 
when  he  came  to  the  ruse  with  which  he  explained 
away  Robinson's  silence. 

"There,"  he  thought,  "that's  the  best  I've  done 
yet.  That  will  stop  Stacy's  bothersome  questions. 
He  might  run  for  six  months  without  writing  now 
and  she'd  never  ask  the  reason  why." 

Happily  the  lovers  were  not  doomed  to  a  half- 
year  of  this  misunderstanding.  In  another  week 
Robinson  was  able  to  sit  at  his  desk  and  write  in 
straggling  words  the  truth  about  his  condition,  past 
and  present,  and  to  say  that  on  the  following  day 
he  would  follow  his  letter  to  Petropolis. 

Arriving  there,  he  was  greeted  with  a  warm  recep- 
tion which  made  the  jealous  Chester  almost  regret 


THE  BOY  NURSE.  403 

that  he,  too,  had  not  taken  a  peep  through  the  key- 
hole of  death's  door;  hero  though  the  boy  had  proved 
himself  to  be,  he  was  left  quite  in  the  background 
on  this  occasion.  Pauline  threw  her  arms  around 
Robinson's  neck  and  gave  him  a  thousand  kisses  in 
her  joy  at  finding  him  still  alive  and  in  his  own 
complexion;  she  had  expected  to  see  him  as  yellow 
as  a  Chinaman  at  least.  Stacy  was  not  so  demon- 
strative, but  she  looked  almost  willing  to  follow 
Pauline's  example,  now  that  she  had  learned  that 
the  influential  and  improper  lady  of  the  masked  ball 
was  a  figment  of  Chester's  brain,  and  that  Robinson 
had  devoted  to  herself  a  due  proportion  of  the  rav- 
ing of  his  delirium.  In  her  loyal  heart  she  resolved 
that  she  would  immediately  proceed  to  discourage 
the  attentions  of  the  handsome  young  Baron  of 
Cabo  Frio,  who  had  been  unusually  zealous  in  his 
services  to  her  of  late. 


XXXIV. 
LOYE  LIES  BLEEDING. 

Down-stairs  I  laugh,  I  sport,  I  jest  with  all, 

But  in  my  solitary  room  above 
I  turn  my  face  in  silence  to  the  wall ; 

My  heart  is  breaking  for  a  little  love. 

— CHRISTINA  ROSSETTI. 

IT  was  long  ago  decreed  that  stories  should  close 
at  the  zenith  of  their  interest — the  marriage  cere- 
mony, which  is  the  end  of  romance  and  the  begin- 
ning of  the  prosy  era  of  dollars  and  cents,  going  to 
market,  and  soothing  the  fretful  infant.  As  a  sub- 
stantial dinner  is  fitly  crowned  with  a  pousse-cafe, 
an  iced  punch,  or  a  thimbleful  of  vermouth,  so  does 
that  other  promoter  of  ecstasy,  the  wedding-day, 
naturally  follow  a  season  of  wooing.  This  climax 
of  bliss  and  orange-blossoms  is  demanded  by  the 
reader  ;  and  since  young  people,  with  some  excep- 
tions, are  sure  to  get  married  sooner  or  later,  the 
complaisant  chronicler  of  their  affairs  does  not  find 
it  difficult  to  bring  about  this  consummation  in  the 
last  chapter,  upon  whose  last  page  the  happy  cou- 
ple's carriage  turns  from  the  shady  lane  of  courtship 
into  the  business  street  of  matrimony,  while  we  hurl 
the  old  shoe  of  good  wishes  after  them. 

For  these  reasons  the  historian  of  the  Smith  Fam- 
ily and  Robinson  has  exerted  his  ingenuity  to  the 


LOVE  LIES  BLEEDING.  405 

utmost  to  compass  within  these  covers  the  marriage 
of  Robinson  and  Stacy.  Although  to  his  infinite 
regret  he  has  fallen  short  of  this,  he  is  able  to  re- 
port upon  the  next  thing  to  it,  and  that  is  the  en- 
gagement. In  order  to  accomplish  so  much,  how- 
ever, he  has  been  obliged  to  crowd  out  much  other 
interesting  matter,  as  the  editors  say,  including  a 
grand  ball  at  Petropolis,  in  which  Stacy  danced  with 
the  gallant  young  husband  of  the  Princess;  a  picnic 
at  Tijuca  ;  and  three  religious  processions  in  Rio,  to 
which  city  our  party  removed  on  the  approach  of  the 
pleasant  weather  of  May. 

After  May  came  June  again,  and  Robinson  was 
making  preparations  to  go  to  Paris  to  pursue  his 
studies,  but  what  the  nature  of  those  studies  may  be 
is  a  mystery  which  our  year's  acquaintance  with  him 
does  but  little  to  dispel ;  when  a  young  man  of  the 
present  day  talks  of  a  mission  like  this,  various  sup- 
positions are  in  order.  It  was  also  arranged  that  the 
Smith  Family  should  return  to  the  United  States  in 
the  course  of  the  month. 

As  yet  no  serious  word  of  love  had  been  spoken 
between  Robinson  and  Stacy.  It  seemed  so  hard  to 
break  off  from  their  easy-going  friendship  and  enter 
upon  the  changed  relationship  of  lovers.  Like 
every  other  neglected  duty,  the  longer  it  was  post- 
poned the  harder  it  seemed.  But  in  his  moments  of 
sober  reflection,  Robinson  felt  that  all  of  the  glories 
and  gayeties  of  Parisian  life  would  be  but  scanty 
compensation  for  the  loss  of  the  companionship  of 
this  one  honest  and  gentle  girl,  unless  she  was 
pledged  to  await  his  return.  So,  looking  ahead,  he 


406  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

selected  the  evening  before  he  should  sail  and  dedi- 
cated it  to  the  task  of  obtaining  from  Stacy  the  word 
that  would  make  him  happy. 

That  was  a  mistake.  Love  should  be  spoken 
when  it  is  upon  the  lips.  Love  is  fickle,  coming 
and  going  at  its  own  sweet  will.  Appoint  a  trysting- 
place,  and  your  Beloved  may  come  and  Love  may 
stay  away ;  if  your  boots  are  too  tight  or  if  she  has 
a  headache,  the  little  wilful  mediator  between  heart 
and  heart  may  find  the  atmosphere  uncongenial  to 
his  presence.  You  talk  in  platitudes,  she  finds  you 
stupid,  and  you  are  convinced  that  she  cares  nothing 
for  you. 

Upon  the  evening  in  question  Robinson  was  in 
trouble  and  vexation  of  spirit.  He  wished  to  pack 
his  trunks,  and  his  linen  had  not  yet  returned  from 
the  laundress.  This  may  seem  a  trivial  annoyance 
to  the  general  reader,  but  it  is  these  little  things  that 
make  or  mar  the  happiness  of  two  lives  forever.  A 
cat,  a  spider,  a  younger  brother,  that  grain  of  coffee 
we  ate  before  going  to  see  her,  these  are  the  pebbles 
that  interrupt  the  current  of  true  love.  What  kind 
of  a  lodging,  then,  could  Cupid  hope  to  find  in  the 
heart  of  a  man  whose  linen  had  been  in  the  hands 
of  a  negro  washerwoman  for  fifteen  days,  especially 
when  we  consider  that  Robinson  felt  a  well-defined 
suspicion  that  this  woman's  male  relatives  were  at 
the  present  moment  wearing  his  shirts. 

He  spoke  of  the  laundry  system  of  Rio  de  Janeiro 
in  the  loudest  and  deepest  and  blackest  terms.  A 
friend,  who  was  standing  by,  sympathized  with  him 
and  advised  him  to  despatch  a  policeman  with  a 


LOVE  LIES  BLEEDING.  407 

search-warrant,  if  he  wished  to  have  his  clothing 
before  the  steamer  sailed.  Another  informed  him 
that  three  weeks  was  the  usual  time  of  retention  of 
linen,  and  that  if  he  wanted  to  call  it  in  on  the  short 
notice  of  fifteen  days,  he  would  have  to  starch  and 
iron  it  himself. 

Can  you  imagine  a  worse  preparation  than  this  for 
the  rare  and  refined  process  of  love-making  ?  When 
Kobinson  entered  Stacy's  presence  the  gloom  of 
wrath  still  hung  around  his  brow.  He  had  resolved 
to  go  straight  to  her  and  ask  her  for  her  affection  and 
some  troth  of  it,  and  have  the  business  over  ;  but  the 
moment  he  saw  her,  refined  and  gentle  and  so  many 
thousand  times  better  than  he  was,  he  felt  that  it 
would  be  sacrilegious  to  open  the  subject  in  his  pres- 
ent condition  of  mind. 

"  I  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you,"  said  she, 
noticing  his  vexed  appearance.  "  It  is  that  washer- 
woman. How  dreadfully  slow  they  are." 

"There,  she  reads  my  mind,"  thought  Kobinson, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "There's  no  use  to  think  of 
being  sentimental  to-night.  She  would  very  properly 
resent  so  abrupt  a  transition  from  linen  to  love,  and 
would  probably  laugh  at  me.  It  would  be  ridicu- 
lous." 

In  the  long  hours  of  the  night,  forgetting  the 
washerwoman  and  remembering  Stacy,  he  made 
many  resolves  to  say  the  tender  words  in  the  morn- 
ing. But  with  morning  came  the  hurry  and  con- 
fusion incidental  to  a  departure  of  one  of  the  family, 
and  he  could  find  no  opportunity.  Officious  friends 
were  always  in  the  way.  Once  only  he  found  Stacy 


408  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

alone  and  under  auspicious  circumstances  ;  but  be- 
fore, by  using  a  few  preliminary  phrases,  he  could 
bring  her  en  rapport,  a  Brazilian  servant  burst  into 
the  room  and  ran  between  them  holding  out  an 
Indian  club  to  Robinson. 

"  The  gentleman  has  forgotten  it,"  said  he. 

"You  stupid  idiot!  I'd  like  to  brain  you  with 
it,"  was  Robinson's  manner  of  thanks. 

Stacy  contracted  her  brows  with  displeasure  at 
seeing  this  outburst  of  temper,  and  the  last  chance 
was  gone.  It  was  now  time  to  leave  the  hotel. 
Stacy  was  only  one  out  of  a  dozen  who  were  assem- 
bled to  bid  him  adieu.  She  was  the  last  to  take  his 
hand. 

"  Good-bye,  Stacy,"  he  said.  "  Be  good  to  your- 
self. What  shall  I  bring  you  from  Paris  ?  " 

"  Oh,  anything  you  please.  A  box  of  those  nice 
caramels.  Grood-bye. " 

He  turned  to  go,  but  smiled  back  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  Shall  I  bring  myself  ?"  he  asked  significantly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  to  be  sure  ;  but  don't  forget  the  cara- 
mels." 

However  deep  might  have  been  her  regret  at  his 
departure,  she  kept  her  feelings  under  admirable 
control.  He  might  have  been  going  for  a  day's 
jaurit  to  Corcovado  ;  she  would  have  displayed  as 
much  emotion. 

"She  does  not  love  me,"  thought  Robinson,  bit- 
terly. "She  thinks  of  caramels.  She  is  like  the 
rest  of  women.  However,  a  courtship  that  has 


LOVE  LIES  BLEEDING.  409 

lasted  five  years  might  just  as  well  be  prolonged  for 
another.     I  will  write  to  her." 

The  Colonel  noticed  Stacy's  indifference,  an 
ed.  It  looked  as  if  his  cherished  plans  were  doomed 
to  miscarry.  But  he  did  not  see  her  return  to  the 
parlor  and  throw  herself  into  a  great  arm-chair  be- 
hind the  curtains,  while  the  smile  faded  from  her 
mouth  and  the  joy  died  out  of  her  eyes,  and  while, 
leaning  her  forehead  against  the  back  of  the  chair, 
the  tears  fell  fast  upon  the  cushions. 


XXXY. 

ORANGE  BUDS. 

Then  a  hundred  sad  voices  lifted  a  wail, 

And  a  hundred  glad  voices  piped  on  the  gale ; 

"  Time  is  short,  life  is  short,"  they  took  up  the  tale; 

' '  Life  is  sweet,  love  is  sweet,  use  to-day  while  you  may ; 
Love  is  sweet,  and  to-morrow  may  fail ; 

Love  is  sweet,  use  to-day." 

—  CHRISTINA  ROSSETTI. 

IT  is  not  the  parting  moment  that  is  sad ;  it  is  the 
hour,  the  day,  the  week,  the  life-time  which 
comes  after.  Even  in  parting  they  are  yet  together, 
and  blinded  by  their  present  satisfaction,  they  can- 
not yet  realize  the  great  desolation  that  is  in  store 
for  them.  But  when  he  turns  the  distant  corner  or 
is  lost  behind  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  she  leaves 
the  doorway  and  retires  to  the  solitude  of  her  room, 
then  the  misery  begins. 

It  was  in  this  hour  after  parting  that  Robinson  first 
began  to  experience  that  dull  and  heavy  sensation 
under  the  left  fold  of  his  coat  which  convinced  him 
that  he  had  a  heart,  and  that  this  organ  was  capable 
of  aching ;  a  malady  which  he  had  hitherto  consid- 
ered a  fiction  of  the  poets.  It  was  then,  also,  that 
Stacy  hid  herself  behind  the  curtains  in  the  great 
arm-chair  and  began  to  reproach  the  world  in 
general  for  being  very  hard  to  her,  complaining 
to  herself  of  Robinson's  cruel  conduct.  Had 

410 


ORANGE  BUDS.  411 


he  not  looked  his  love  into  her  eyes  a  thousand 
times?  And  now  he  was  going  off  unconcernedly 
to  Paris,  where  the  women  were  all  fascinating 
and  bad,  like  those  who  once  upon  a  time  sur- 
rounded St.  Anthony,  and  she  doubted  if  Rob- 
inson had  the  staying  power  of  that  abstemious 
and  holy  anchoret.  She  wondered,  in  revenge,  if 
the  Baron  of  Cabo  Frio  still  carried  her  image  in 
his  heart,  and  how  Robinson  would  feel  to  receive 
wedding  cards  inscribed  with  the  Baron's  name  and 
her  own.  She  wondered  if  all  men  were  villains, 
and  cared  no  more  for  the  confiding  nature  of 
woman  than  they  did  for  the  flowers  at  their  feet. 
Ah,  if  she  were  only  a  man,  she  would  be  so  noble 
and  chivalric,  so  brave  to  defend  a  woman  and  so 
tender  to  care  for  her,  so  quick  to  sympathize  with 
all  loverless  maidens,  and  to  love  them,  too  —  but 
no,  she  did  not  mean  that,  either.  Here  the  poor 
girl  got  confused  in  her  plans  and  began  to  cry 
quietly  to  herself. 

Although  Robinson  was  as  deeply  in  love,  his  con- 
duct was  not  so  childish.  It  was  more  disagreeable, 
however.  It  was  the  conduct  of  a  man  who  was 
very  much  dissatisfied  with  himself,  and,  conse- 
quently, with  all  the  rest  of  the  world.  In  short, 
he  acted  very  much  like  a  man  who  had  just  lost  a 
month's  income  at  playing  poker. 

He  went  on  board  the  ship  and  abused  the  steward 
because  his  state-room  was  not  larger.  His  fellow- 
passenger  was  a  Frenchman,  who  politely  offered 
him  a  cigar.  Robinson  took  it  moodily  and  without 
thanks,  lit  it,  but  because  it  did  not  draw  well  at  the 


412  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

first  puff  he  flung  it  through  the  open  port-hole  with 
a  malediction,  much  to  the  astonishment  and  morti- 
fication of  the  Frenchman,  who  entered  in  his  note- 
book the  general  statement  that  Americans  are  rude. 

On  the  deck  he  met  an  Englishman  whom  he  had 
known  before. 

"Ah,  I  say,  Mr.  Robinson,"  he  asked,  uwhat 
takes  you  to  Europe  ?  " 

"Because  I'm  a  fool,"  Robinson  rejoined,  and 
passed  on. 

The  Englishman  screwed  a  monocle  into  his  eye 
and  gazed  after  him. 

"That  man  ought  to  have  a  keeper,"  he  said. 
"He  is  dangerous." 

It  was  the  hour  to  start.  The  bell  sounded.  The 
company's  agent  stepped  over  the  vessel's  side  and 
into  his  boat.  Robinson's  eyes  followed  him  wish- 
fully. A  convulsive  shiver  of  motion  ran  over  the 
ship.  This  decided  him. 

"  Hold  on  !  "  he  cried.     "I've  got  to  go  ashore." 

"But  it's  too  late,"  remonstrated  the  captain. 
"  We  can't  wait  for  you." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  wait.     Go  on." 

"But  your  luggage  is  stowed  away  in  the  hold." 

"I  don't  care.  Keep  it.  Give  it  to  the  poor.  But 
no,  put  it  ashore  at  Bahia." 

"He  was  dangerous,"  repeated  the  Englishman, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  he  eyed  the  receding  boat. 

Robinson  lost  no  time  in  returning  to  the  hotel. 
Immediately  ascending  to  the  parlor  in  search  of 
Stacy,  he  saw  the  folds  of  her  dress  beneath  the 
window-curtain  which  enveloped  her.  He  stepped 


ORANGE  BUDS.  413 


on  tiptoe  across  the  room.  She  did  not  hear  him, 
for  she  was  in  a  reverie,  her  hand  grasping  the  back 
of  the  chair  and  her  head  pillowed  upon  her  arm. 
This,  at  last,  was  his  opportunity.  Stooping  over 
her,  he  passed  an  arm  gently  around  her  and  kissed 
her  upon  the  forehead.  She  did  not  lift  her  brow, 
over  which  a  thrill  of  pleasure  passed,  but,  clinging 
to  his  shoulder,  she,  rising  to  her  feet,  crept  into 
his  embrace  and  hid  her  burning  face  in  his  bosom. 
She  knew  whose  arm  was  around  her. 

u  That's  right,  Stacy,  my  darling.  Don't  speak, 
or  it  will  break  the  charm.  No,  we'll  never  talk 
any  more,  my  little  girl,  for  if  we  do,  I  will  say 
something  rude,  or  you  will  say  something  saucy, 
and  we'll  have  to  begin  all  over  again." 

They  had  been  friends;  now  they  were  lovers. 
Their  relationship  had  been  pleasant;  it  was  now 
blissful.  It  was  that  one  kiss  that  wrought  the 
change.  He  had  never  kissed  her  before. 

It  is  said  that  the  tiger-cub,  taken  young  and 
reared  upon  unsanguinary  food,  grows  up  as  harm- 
less as  any  household  pet,  but  once  let  it  get  the 
taste  of  blood  and  its  savage  nature  asserts  itself, 
and  it  is  henceforth  insatiable. 

Robinson  kissed  Stacy  again. 

She  thought  it  was  now  time  to  interfere.  She 
raised  her  face  all  burning  and  radiant. 

"  Henry,  I  don't  know  whether  to  like  that  or 
not." 

"It  doesn't  take  me  long  to  make  up  my  mind," 
responded  the  insatiable,  attempting  a  third  em- 
brace. 


414  ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

She  put  up  her  hand  to  ward  him  off. 

"  But  what  brings  you  back  ?  I  thought  you  had 
gone  to  Paris." 

"I — I — forgot  my  handkerchief,"  he  answered. 

"Here,  take  mine.  Now,  hurry,  or  you  will  be 
too  late  for  the  steamer." 

"The  steamer's  gone,"  he  said  with  elation. 

"  But  your  trunks,  what  will  become  of  them  ?" 

"Oh,  bother  the  trunks  !  I'm  happy  enough  to 
live  without  baggage  henceforth." 

In  this  remark  we  may  notice  one  of  the  essential 
differences  between  the  masculine  and  feminine 
mind.  The  man,  thinking  of  marriage,  says  that  he 
is  now  happy  enough  to  live  without  baggage.  The 
woman,  once  that  she  hears  the  auspicious  proposals, 
immediately  begins  to  calculate  how  many  dozens 
of  this  and  that  article  of  clothing  will  be  necessary 
for  her  trousseau. 

A  forced  cough  was  heard  near  the  door.  It  pro- 
ceeded from  Chester,  who  had  entered  unobserved, 
and  was  standing  with  his  fingers  modestly  spread 
out  before  his  eyes. 

Stacy  hastened  to  release  herself,  and  brushed  the 
rumpled  hair  back  from  her  forehead. 

"  Bless  you,  my  children,"  said  the  boy,  benignly. 
"I  will  go  and  tell  the  Colonel.  It's  important 
news.  Maybe  he  will  give  me  ten  milreis  for  it." 

Then  the  happy  couple  began  to  rearrange  their 
broken  plans.  Robinson  would  return  with  the 
family  to  New  York,  where  they  would  be  married. 
Then  would  come  the  wedding  trip.  To  what  re- 


ORANGE  BUDS.  415 


treat  should  they  steal  away  to  find  that  seclusion 
which  the  soul  demands  on  such  occasions  ? 

"  To  Niagara  Falls  ? "  suggested  Robinson. 

"  What  an  idea!     Why,  everybody  goes  there." 

" 1  know  it.  I  thought  it  was  a  part  of  the  cere- 
mony." 

"  If  you  will  persist  in  talking  about  such  things," 
said  Stacy,  ;  c  why  not  go  to  Paris  ?  You  were  going 
there  any  way,  you  know." 

Hobinson's  countenance  fell. 

"To  Paris?"  he  replied.  "I  always  had  a 
theory  that  a  young  man  ought  to  do  Paris  before  he 
got  married.  He  can  see  it  to  so  much  better  ad- 
vantage." 

."  Do  you  mean  that? "  asked  Stacy,  coolly.  "For 
if  you  do,  it's  not  too  late,  even  now." 

He  looked  into  her  eyes,  and  saw  the  old  defiance 
gleaming  there. 

"Oh,  no;  not  at  all.  I  was  only  joking,  Stacy," 
he  replied,  apologetically. 

He  was  already  beginning  to  fall  into  the  discipline 
that  was  awaiting  him. 


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